


Guestbook Scribbles - A Ficlet Collection

by anysin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Amnesia, Angst, Babysitting, Character Death, Crossover, Dark Grunkle Ford, Demonic Possession, Dreams, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Frottage, Fuck Or Die, Gen, Ghosts, Goodbyes, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Introspection, M/M, Missing Scene, Multi, Older Gideon Gleeful, Older Mabel Pines, Older Pacifica Northwest, One-Sided Attraction, Original Character Death(s), Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Summer Romance, Teen Pregnancy, Tentacles, Torture, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-03-12 18:05:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 62
Words: 30,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13552734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: A ficlet collection of gen and random ship ficlets, generally ranging from 0 to 500 words. Watch out for smut and darkfic.Latest Additions: Desperate Moves (Stan/Soos) and Say It With A Kiss (Manly Dan/Ford.)This collection is complete.





	1. Fling (Wendy/Mabel)

On the last day of summer, Wendy and Mabel kiss.

They have wanted to do so for some time; Mabel knows her own feelings and she can tell Wendy’s from the way she cups Mabel’s face, how she first nibbles on Mabel’s lips ever so lightly before catching the lower one between her teeth. Mabel welcomes Wendy’s knee as it pushes between her thighs, curving against it as she grabs handfuls of Wendy’s hair, pulling her closer.

“Mabel,” Wendy breathes against her, rubbing her cheek against Mabel’s palm when Mabel cups her face. They kiss again, pushing up against the tree as they lick and taste each other’s mouths, the bark scraping against Mabel’s bare shoulders.

Wendy’s hands move to the backs of Mabel’s thighs, running her fingertips up and down the sensitive skin, and Mabel responds by throwing first one leg, then the other one around Wendy’s waist. Her skirt rides up a little as she does so, making it easier for her to rub her groin against Wendy’s. Wendy grinds against her, stroking her thighs and ass and kissing her neck, and Mabel has to bite her lip to not make a sound. She doesn’t want anyone to come running to them, to interrupt this; she wants to keep kissing Wendy like they’re running out of time. Because they’re running out of time.

Hips rocking together, they rut against the tree; Mabel moans softly even as the rub of the tree bark gets too rough and starts to hurt, even as the stiff denim of Wendy’s jeans is starting to have the same effect despite the protective layer of her panties. But she’s close to coming, and from the sound of it so is Wendy, and she hopes they could come together like lovers in books do, and-

She comes with a howl, only barely having the sense of mind to cover her mouth to keep the sound from echoing too much, and moments later she feels Wendy’s teeth press against the pulse on her neck as she comes also. Wendy’s knees buckle a little, but she still holds onto Mabel, lowering her gently on the ground before slumping down herself. They lean against the tree together, shoulder touching shoulder, not looking at each other.

Summer always ends too soon.


	2. My Fellow, My Guy (Fiddauthor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiddleford McGuckett is the most brilliant person Ford has ever met.

Fiddleford McGuckett is probably the most brilliant person Ford has ever met. Of course Ford is helplessly attracted to him.

He has a wife, he tries to tell himself. Wife and a child.

That doesn’t stop his arm from creeping up on Fiddleford’s shoulders as they reminisce over a particularly satisfying day, or from his fingers from resting on the nape of Fiddleford’s neck after an encouraging pat on the back. He feels ashamed about it, but not ashamed enough to stop. He does try to keep Fiddleford from noticing, but even that seems to backfire on him.

“Ford, are you all right?” Fiddleford will ask if Ford snaps his arm or hand away from him and tries to act casual, as if he needs to be concerned about Ford instead of because of him. And when Fiddleford gets concerned about someone, he gets up close: he peers into Ford’s eyes, brushes his hair away from his face with a warm, steady hand, smacks him briskly between his shoulders after becoming sure that everything is all right with him. Ford shivers in need over every one of those gestures, not used to this kind of attention. It’s hard not to interpret it as something more than it is.

 _No, it’s not_ , he scolds himself. _It’s called facing the reality._

So Ford tries to behave, except he doesn’t succeed. He tries to be discreet instead, but that doesn’t work either, and eventually Fiddleford always notices and proceeds to make things worse just by being his kind, caring self. All he can do is hope that Fiddleford won’t catch onto why he’s behaving the way he is.

Unless Fiddleford, the astoundingly clever creature that he is, already knows. And - as Ford fears - doesn’t care.


	3. Ideal Male (Pinecest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel has some troubling memories about Mabelland.

Mabeland keeps giving Mabel trouble long after it has ceased to be.

Mainly, it’s Dippy Fresh that keeps giving her trouble. It’s not like she’s confused about his purpose: she wanted a version of Dipper who was completely subservient to her, had no will of his own and would never, ever leave her, and she got what she wanted in its full, monstrous extent. But there is something about him that keeps bothering her. One specific thing. One specific thing that she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about ever since it occurred to her.

Dippy may have been an idealized version of Dipper, except nothing about him was like Dipper at all. If anything, his personality was closer to those of Xyler and Craz, her dream boyfriends. Why did she give Dippy a personality she’d like her boyfriend to have?

When she looks at Dipper now, in all his awkwardness and rough edges, she can’t imagine ever wanting him to be anything other than himself. She feels ashamed that she ever wanted that in the first place; Dipper is perfect just the way he is. Even if she wanted to date him, she wouldn’t want him to be anyone else but him. He’s Dipper. He’s who she loves.

That’s the most troublesome legacy of Mabeland.

Not that Mabel doesn’t love to love Dipper. Loving Dipper makes her happy. She wants him to be in her life forever. That’s why the last thing she needs is to have weird feelings about him; she wants him to feel the same way about her, too.

Whatever weirdness came from her brain, it needs to stay there.


	4. Bitter Pill (Bill, OFC/OMC)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill deals with thieves.

Normally, anyone who dares to steal from Bill dies quickly. This time, however, the unfortunate schmucks happen to bear a resemblance to Pine Tree and Shooting Star.

“Strip,” Bill orders, watching from his throne as the two humans hastily shed their clothing away, trying to shield their starved little bodies with their hands. “If you want to live, you better punish yourselves on my behalf. Fight!" 

The female is stronger, like Shooting Star is. Bill hates the memory of her easily yanking him into the wedding cake and how it makes him remember every humiliating thing that happened afterward. 

"All right, now you fuck her brains out.”

The male has been co-operative so far, completely unlike Pine Tree, but now he hesitates. “We need protection.”

“ _I_ decide what you need.” Bill leans forward on his throne, sending the male stumbling backwards in fear. “The more she suffers, the sooner you get to leave. Aaaaaaaand go!”

In the end, it’s not satisfactory. As much as Bill likes how this woman bleeds, she’s not the one who grinned at him in glee as Pine Tree’s legs gave out from beneath him, and the man and his willingness to go along with anything Bill says couldn’t be less like Pine Tree himself. These creatures are just poor substitutes for those he really wants to destroy.

_What happened to lying until lying becomes the truth?_

Bill doesn’t know. Seeing red, he vaporizes the thieves.


	5. Make-Believing (Stan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eventually, Wax Stan loses its novelty.

Eventually, Wax Stan loses its novelty.

In fact, Wax Stan loses its novelty almost immediately after its return. It’s not really much to look at as a head; it’s just Stan, in wax, while it was more like an ideal Stan when it still had its body. That was, when Stan thought of it as a Stan at all. But the truth was that for most of Wax Stan’s existence, Stan liked to pretend that it was Ford.

Now when Stan looks at the lone head, he feels ridiculous for ever even thinking that it could pass for his brother’s substitute.

Still, he doesn’t throw it away. It’s still an artistic masterpiece made by his grand niece, and Stan is not going to spit her in the eye by throwing her gift to him away. Even if she says things like “it’s not as handsome as you”, or shrugs indifferently at her own talents. If she hadn’t done such a great job, Stan wouldn’t have been able to have his little fantasies at all.

Stan wants to tell Mabel that he’s grateful for it, how she allowed him to fool himself into being happy for a while. But she won’t understand, and hopefully she’ll never have to understand. And who knows, maybe in the future talks about fake happiness won’t be necessary at all, because he’ll have the real kind instead.


	6. Someone Worth Loving (Gideon/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon wants to be someone worth loving.

Before Bill had put Gideon in the cage, he had said:

“You really think Mabel could ever love you? Let’s face it, kid, you’re just as unlovable as I am!”

Gideon had known that to be true, knows it to be true even now. Ghost-Eyes and others disagree.

“Okay, so maybe she will never love-love you,” Ghost-Eyes says, as if that dream hasn’t been thoroughly crushed already. “But it looks like she wants to be friends! She’s been sending postcards!”

“Out of obligation.” Pacifica Northwest had agreed to show him the card she had received and it had been full of doodles, glitter and exclamation marks. Gideon’s card has one sticker and he can count the exclamation marks in it with one hand.

“Or then she doesn’t know how to approach you. Speaking of approaching, she’s doing that.” Ghost-Eyes nudges him in the arm. “Would she be doing that if she didn’t care?”

“Hmm.”

Ghost-Eyes sighs. “You know I love you, bro, but I wish you weren’t so moody.”

Gideon wishes that, too. He wishes that as he thinks about Ghost-Eyes’s words when lies in the bed at night, staring at the card he got from Mabel. Ghost-Eyes is right: Mabel can easily ignore him if she doesn’t want to be in touch, and so far she hasn’t done so. For some reason, she has chosen to have faith in him. Gideon should be happy about that.

Maybe he still wants more than what she’s willing to give.

Maybe he still isn’t worth her.

But if she believes in him, maybe he can be.


	7. For Love Of A Car (Stan, Jimmy Snakes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan makes a new friend at a bar.

Stan meets Jimmy Snakes after the Stanmobile has been stolen and he’s drowning his sorrows in a bar. Later he won’t be sure how he ended up talking to Jimmy in the first place, but for now Jimmy has a sympathetic ear and he doesn’t mind Stan groaning into it, and that makes him the best friend Stan has had in a long time.

“There would be a hell to pay if someone stole my bike,” Jimmy tells him, and they toast to that. After they’ve finished their drinks off, Jimmy asks: “Speaking of which, how about you make them pay?”

“How? I have no money and no home. I don’t even know who did it.” With his luck, Stan would probably end up being imprisoned for robbing himself.

“Well, maybe you need some help.” Jimmy points his thumb at himself. “You could get a whole gang to help you right now.”

Okay, so the friendship portion of the night is over. Stan sits up a little straighter and looks Jimmy right in the eye. “What’s the catch?”

Jimmy chuckles. “A suspicious one, eh? That’s smart of you.” Jimmy straightens up too, his gaze so sincere that it has to be fake. “The catch is, there isn’t real catch. All I want is for you to work for me while we look for your thief, and maybe do one big favor for me after we get your car back.”

“Huh.” Stan wishes he still had something to drink, but it’s probably better that he keeps his head as clear as possible. “And you surely aren’t up for anything unsavory, are you?”

“Of course not.” Jimmy shrugs. “What do you say?”

One tiny part of his mind is saying no. Insisting on it, even, but Stan knows that he’s not going to listen to it. This is the Stanmobile they’re talking about; the closest thing to home Stan has anymore, maybe the only home he’s ever truly had. There’s no way he’ll ever abandon it to some stranger.

What’s a possible deal with a devil compared to that?“

“I say yes.” He stretches out his hand. “Wanna shake on it?”

Jimmy grins, and gives his hand a squeeze that is almost as sincere as his eyes are. “Welcome aboard, Stan.”

Stan won’t regret it. Mostly.


	8. Untitled #1 (Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waddles, meet Mittens.

When Mabel and Dipper come home with Waddles in tow, Mittens is the first one to rush out to greet them.

“Look, Mittens, you have a new friend!” As Mabel prepares to explain Waddles’s presence to Mom and Dad, she notices from the corner of her eye that Mittens is approaching Waddles, pink nose twitching as she sniffs him. The sight is a relief; Mittens has always been an easygoing cat, and if everything goes right, she won’t have a problem with accepting Waddles. It’s only her parents Mabel needs to worry about.

Yet later as she watches Mittens and Waddles tentatively cuddle, Mabel feels guilty. She’s barely thought about Mittens for whole summer, having been too busy adoring her new pet. She will have to make up to Mittens for that, she realizes, and show Waddles that he isn’t the only beloved animal in the house. Mabel needs to prove them that there is enough love for both of them in her heart. Mabel herself is already convinced.


	9. Untitled #2 (Mabel/Pacifica)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Pacifica go to the beach.

When Pacifica was young, she wasn’t allowed to go to the lake or the public pool; her parents thought both places were beneath her. Now that she’s finally at the beach, her first thought is that she didn’t miss out that much.

“Come on, Pacifica.” Mabel spreads their blanket on the sand, flops down on the left half. “It’ll be fun.”

“Not if we burn up.” Pacifica reaches for the sun lotion in her purse.

Spreading lotion onto other person instead of receiving it yourself is weird, but nice. Pacifica thinks about all the sunbathing they’ll do this afternoon, maybe for every day of the summer; she decides she wouldn’t want to miss out on that.


	10. Untitled #3 (Gideon/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon thinks about Dipper in prison.

When the night comes at the prison, Gideon thinks of Dipper Pines.

The nightfall used to be the time when Gideon read the Journal at home, entwining himself into its secrets and mysteries. Now, he thinks of Dipper reading the Journal at the Shack, of his fingers turning the pages or following a line of text, of his eyes darting between paragraphs and illustrations, of his hands holding the book steady and still. It’s just so unfair, he thinks. Gideon was the one who discovered the Author first. What right does Dipper have to steal both him and the Journal from Gideon?

Yet there is also something strangely soothing about thinking of Dipper reading the Journal, of him handling it like the precious thing it is. At least Gideon can trust Dipper to take good care of the Journal, enemy or not. Surely that’s the only reason thinking of Dipper makes him feel warm inside?


	11. Let's Pretend (Ford/Dipper, Bill)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fuck or die at the Fearamid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Underage non-con, NSFW.

“Go ahead, Sixer.” Bill leans back in the air, crossing his hands behind his top vertex. “Show Pine Tree how much you love him.”

Ford tries to catch Dipper’s gaze, but Dipper is staring at the ceiling, eyes shining; he is trying not to cry. It breaks Ford’s heart to see him like that, but he forces himself to remain calm, leaning down to kiss Dipper on his soft, flat stomach. Dipper shivers, whimpering in his throat.

“Pine Tree, please,” Bill says, rolling his eye. “Don’t bother. We both know that you want it, so stop complaining.”

“Don’t speak for me,” Ford warns, which makes Bill laugh at him. Ignoring that, Ford grasps Dipper gently from his knees, pushing at them gently to get them to part. Dipper tenses first, but soon lets his knees fall open, exposing himself to Ford. Ford is relieved to see that Dipper is hard, cock standing at half-mast between his thighs. When Ford leans close to it, Dipper whimpers again, louder.

“Ford,” he says. His voice is tight with nerves, but there is also awe in it, like it’s incredible that this is happening. Emotion swells in Ford’s chest, making him reach out with his hands to take Dipper’s fingers into his own; the emotion solidifies as affection when Dipper returns his touch, squeezing him tight.

“It’s going to be all right,” Ford says, which makes Bill snort loudly above them. They ignore it, looking into each other’s eyes; Ford can see that Dipper is still scared, but trustful. It touches Ford. “I promise to make this as good to you as possible.”

“I bet you do!”

“It’ll be all right.” Ford swallows, trying to make the choking feeling in his own throat go away. “It’s all going to be all right, I promise.”

He doesn’t know if that’s possible, if he can say that. But even as Bill starts to boo them and demand action, Dipper pulls one of his hands free from Ford’s and reaches out to touch his cheek, pretending to believe him.


	12. Cursed Places (Fiddleford/Possessed!Ford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gravity Falls is killing Fiddleford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dub-con.

“Rough day, huh?”

Fiddleford and Ford are having cognac in Ford’s kitchen. The liquor is warm and it goes into Fiddleford’s limbs, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling like his stomach is full of rats, wearing his insides out with their scattering little feet. Rough doesn’t even begin to describe what this town has done to him.

“Poor ol’ Fidds.” When Fiddleford doesn’t answer, Ford chuckles to himself. “Whatever should I do with you?”

Rough doesn’t begin to describe what Ford has done to him.

Ford’s hand is on Fiddleford’s knee, kneading circles into the flesh above the bone. It feels heavy, which is how Fiddleford feels about Ford in general; he doesn’t know what to do with his friend’s mercurial moods anymore, nor with his obsession with the portal or his invisible partner whose presence weighs on them constantly. When Fiddleford looks Ford’s eyes, he’s not even sure he recognizes what he sees anymore.

“What are you doing?” Fiddleford asks, miserable.

Ford chuckles again. “Come on, Fidds. I’m not using you, I’m making you useful.” He slides his hand up to Fiddleford’s thigh, thumb inching down between his legs and following the seam on his pants to his groin. When Ford grasps him from there with firm fingers, Fiddleford closes his eyes, which makes Ford bark out a laughter. “You want to be useful, don’t you?”

What Fiddleford wants is for this place to stop sucking both of their souls dry.

He lets Ford do what he wants, but grinds his teeth the whole time.


	13. Sharing Is Caring (Gideon/Pacifica/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica surprises Mabel with a guest in the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW dub-con, older characters.

“Remember, Gleeful: she doesn’t get to come unless I say so.”

“Understood, Ms Northwest.”

With that, Gideon lowers himself between Mabel’s spread legs, his hands latching onto her hips. He still holds her like she is the most precious thing in the universe, and his tongue is equally reverent in its touch when it flicks out against her clit. Mabel whines deep in her throat, squirming against the wet contact; that makes Pacifica’s hand come down on her breast in a light slap.

“This is a gift, Mabel,” Pacifica scolds her, soothing Mabel’s stinging nipple with the her thumb. It’s not very successful as both of Mabel’s nipples start to harden instead, her clit twitching against the tip of Gideon’s tongue as it presses down on her.

“You have talked about how you’d like us to do something different for a change,” Pacifica continues. She keeps playing with Mabel’s breasts, grasping them with full hands and massaging them gently, luring her into relaxing before surprising her with pinches. Mabel only barely manages to keep herself from not crying out, which makes Pacifica’s eyes flash bright; she loves it when Mabel is obedient. “The thing is, I don’t want just anyone to touch you.”

“Me neither,” Gideon mumbles as he starts nosing Mabel’s opening, nipping at lightly at the folds and pressing his thumb into the hole between them. Mabel can see Pacifica frowning slightly at the interruption, but Pacifica lets it slide, which makes Mabel feel sorry for Gideon. Pacifica never forgets, after all.

“Also, the rumor has it that he gives great head,” Pacifica says, smirking when both Mabel and Gideon go red over her words. “It should make a nice change for you, right Mabel?”

“-I don’t do it for just anyone, you know.” Gideon is frowning, but it doesn’t stop his thumb from pushing all the way inside Mabel, making her gasp.

“I know.” Pacifica sounds almost nice. “That’s why you get to be here, Gideon; only you appreciate certain things as much as I do.”

Pacifica leans down to kiss Mabel on the forehead as she says that while Gideon dives between her thighs once more. Mabel doesn’t know if she hates all that appreciation or if she wants it, so she just lies there. Maybe answer will come to her.


	14. Worst Case Scenario (Bill/Fiddleford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiddleford falls into the portal and comes face to face with Bill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW non-con.

“Please just stop!” Fiddleford feels sick, he’s shaking all over and he wants so bad to fry his brain with the memory gun, but there is no escaping any of this. He has fallen into the portal and now he finally gets to meet the creature that has been driving Ford crazy all this time. “I’ll do whatever you want me to. Anything but this.”

The creature - Bill - has taken the form of a simple black triangle laying on the ground, with white arms stretching out from its sides. In his hands, Bill is holding children, all alien to Fiddleford as species but recognizable as adolescent creatures, and Bill is about to let them fall into his black form. It’s obvious what the worst case scenario is going to be and Fiddleford can’t let that happen. “Please,” he says, and that seems to be the thing that Bill has been waiting for; Bill puts the children aside, safely onto the ground, and lets them flee back to their parents.

“You’ll do what I want, eh?” Bill’s disembodied voice rings out in laughter. “Then come over here, babe.”

Fiddleford doesn’t hesitate; he walks over to the black triangle on the ground, ready to step on it even, but that’s when hands reach out for him, grabbing him, lifting him up into the air. From the corner of his eye, he can see the children and their parents staring at him before Bill’s henchmen chase them out of the chamber, and Bill and Fiddleford are left alone.

“So I have you, finally!” Multiple hands reach out for Fiddleford, starting to strip him of his clothing while the first ones hold him still. He watches his clothes drop down to the blackness of Bill’s- body, he guesses that’s what it is, Bill is now just a shape on the floor. Shape that is about to fuck him, he knows; that’s why he’s being bared and spread, why one pair of hand is pushing his buttocks apart and thrusting a finger in between them.

“Maybe you’ll stop being such a problem to me, now.” A finger shoves itself inside him and Fiddleford can only barely hold back a scream; there are no attempts at making this good for Fiddleford, it seems like. It’s good. Fiddleford doesn’t want this to feel good, doesn’t want to forget that this is a monster that is holding him captive, who is going to do bad things to Ford.

“‘Bad things?’ Boy have you misinterpreted our relationship.” Bill laughs, twisting his finger inside Fiddleford until Fiddleford’s whole body is arching and curving along with Bill’s movements. It’s like he’s an automaton, without the will of his own. It makes him feel so ashamed, and apparently Bill picks on that as he laughs even more. “Babe, you are so wrong: Ford and I are the best of buddies. We’re going to have a big laugh over this one day, him and I. I swear, he’s not going to believe how you’ve screwed up this time!”

Bill yanks his finger out, which makes Fiddleford’s ass and legs cramp and his body jerk in Bill’s grip; somehow his anger manages to rise above the pain. “How I’ve screwed up? What is he going to think about you being- being- THIS!” He starts to struggle for the first time, even though he can tell it’s hopeless; the hands holding him have steely grips and his efforts only make Bill outright howl with amusement. He struggles anyway, just to feel less helpless. “What are you going to do to me?” he asks when he runs out of strength, falling slack.

He watches as tentacles begin to slither upwards from the black triangle, looping around his limbs until they’re the ones holding him, and the hands withdraw.

“In case it isn’t obvious already, I’m going to fuck you.” One tentacle nudges between his ass cheeks, starts to squeeze itself into him; it’s slick and it’s more comfortable than the dry finger was, but it’s also more flexible, writhing against Fiddleford’s insides in a way that makes him want to scream. “Second, while I think Ford can handle our little project on his own from now on, one always needs spares! I just need to _whip you into shape_.”

The tentacles all tighten their grips, and Fiddleford can’t hold anything back anymore.


	15. Dream A Little Dream (Bill/Ford/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill intervenes when Ford dreams of Dipper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW non-con, underage, possessed!Dipper, dark!Ford.

“What an innocent little face, am I right?”

Ford starts at the familiar voice in his head, feeling his blood run cold. “Bill!”

“Chillax, your stupid metal plate didn’t let you down.” Bill comes down and sits on his shoulder, ruffling his hair. “I can’t believe you fell asleep thinking of your sleeping nephew. What kind of meta-?”

Ford grimaces, looking down at Dipper’s dozing figure. He’s trying to remember where he was when he fell asleep; hopefully back in the basement and not actually with Dipper in his room. His and Mabel’s room, Ford corrects himself; Mabel hadn’t been there at the time, having fallen asleep on the living room couch with Stan, but Ford’s brother could wake up any moment and carry their niece back to her bed, and find Ford there with Dipper. It would be hard to explain his presence there.

“Why?” Bill asks, hugging the back of Ford’s head. “You think you have popped a boner next him?”

“Shut up,” Ford hisses, although Bill is right; that’s exactly what Ford is afraid of. Before Bill showed up, Ford had been busy stroking Dipper’s hair, perfectly aware of his erection bulging against the confines of his pants. Remembering that makes Ford feel a little relieved; he wouldn’t be that obvious in real life, so he must be in the basement, safely alone with his desires.

“But how long will you be able to keep a secret like this?” Bill is leaning against Fords’s head now, his eye near Ford’s ear. “That you want to fuck your nephew?”

Ford should be pushing Bill away, chasing him out of his dream. He doesn’t; he continues to stroke the dream Dipper instead, letting his fingertips brush over his neck and throat, trace the ridges of his collarbones. The dream Dipper’s skin is soft; the real one’s skin is probably that, too. But are there differences in textures?

“Why don’t you find out?” Bill asks, and Ford is woken up by a feeling of small hand squeezing his groin.

His eyes snap open, and he almost shouts in surprise; Dipper is there, except his eyes are glowing golden, meaning it’s actually Bill. Dipper’s - Bill’s’- hands are working fast on Ford’s trousers, undoing the button and pulling the zipper down, diving inside to slip past the opening of his briefs.

“What are you doing?” It’s a stupid question; it’s obvious what Bill is doing and Ford should be putting an end to it. Instead, he watches as Dipper’s body straddles him, his slim thighs molding against Ford’s thick, muscular ones as Bill draws his cock out, stroking it with both hands. Dipper’s hands are a little calloused, but still mostly soft; they feel good against Ford’s flesh. Ford gnaws on the inside of his cheek, balls his hands into fists.

“Deep down you want this and you know it.” Bill takes Dipper’s thumb into his mouth, wetting it with his saliva; the sight is more appealing than Ford cares to admit. Bill brings the thumb down onto Ford’s slit, sliding it over the first pearl of pre-come. “I mean, it’s not like you’re resisting me or anything.”

It’s true. He should. He lets Bill proceed.


	16. Heavy Bargain (Bill/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Dipper's confrontation after Ford is turned into a statue goes a little differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW, non-con, underage.

“I think you’re mature enough to know what I want from you,” Bill says.

Dipper swallows; he is, but that doesn’t make this any easier for him. He starts to strip down, starting with his vest and shirt. His hat comes off along with them, which makes him think he probably should have started with that, but Bill doesn’t care; he just sits in the air, looking down at Dipper with his arms crossed, his eye narrowed and stern.

His hands tremble a bit when he takes his shorts off, but they’re outright shaking when it’s time to do the same with his underwear; he has trouble grasping the waistband and pulling it off his skin, pushing the material down, but somehow he manages it and he’s left standing naked before Bill. Well, aside from his shoes and socks. He decides to fix that, kicking off his shoes and preparing to roll his socks down.

“Leave them on,” Bill says. “They make you look sweet, I like that.”

That makes Bill’s monster friends laugh, which starts Dipper; he had almost forgotten about them, shutting everything away from his mind except for Bill and himself. Now, he can see Bill’s friends observing them a little further away, and of course there is Ford on the ground, golden and frozen in horror; it occurs to Dipper that despite his physical state, Ford might still see him and that’s what finally drives it all the way in, what Bill is about to do to him. He finds his breathing speeding up first, then he can’t breathe at all.

“Well, thanks a lot, guys, now he has performance anxiety.”

Dipper blinks, then flinches hard when he realizes that he is in Bill’s arms, pulled tight against the triangle’s warm surface. He must have fainted for a moment, since he’s all slack and boneless, but he tries to pull himself together, pressing his hands against Bill’s form to push himself away.

“Uh uh,” Bill scolds him, sliding a hand into his hair. The other one drops down to Dipper’s naked ass, squeezing him; Dipper shudders, trying to squirm out of Bill’s grip, but that’s when Bill says: “I thought you wanted me to let you stay with your uncle?”

It’s true; that’s why he agreed to this in the first place, to Bill- he stops struggling, forcing his body to relax, even though he isn’t entirely successful. Bill doesn’t seem to care; grabbing Dipper by the back of his head, he pulls Dipper’s face near his eye. A moment later it isn’t an eye anymore but a mouth, smelling of raw meat and iron and Dipper wants to throw up.

“Now that just hurts my feelings, Pine Tree.” A black tongue slithers out of Bill’s mouth, dragging its length over Dipper’s face. It takes his breath away and Dipper finds himself gaping for air when the lick comes to an end, which makes Bill’s friends laugh again. “Make up for it with a kiss, won’t you?”

What choice does he have? Taking a hold of Bill’s edges, Dipper presses his lips against a mouth that is almost as big as Dipper’s head, not resisting when the tongue comes out again and twirls around him, leaving him coated under a thick layer of saliva. Both of Bill’s hands are on his ass now, massaging the firm little cheeks; Dipper doesn’t want to think about how Bill is going to fuck him exactly, but he guesses he’s going to find out in a moment.

“My little puppet,” Bill says, with mock tenderness. Dipper can feel himself go red with anger, and as afraid as he is, he can’t let that anger go.

“You can do whatever you want with my body,” he says, proud that his voice isn’t shaking. “But don’t you dare think you own me.”

Bill laughs. “What makes you think I even want that?”

 _All of this?_ Dipper can only barely swallow the words, but that effort doesn’t matter; he sees Bill’s eye narrow anyway as it fills with malice.

“Oh, let me show you just how little you mean to me.”

In the end, all Bill really needs to do is to betray his promise and send Dipper fleeing for his life while he takes Ford with him to do that. But the fact he needed to do more, and lose his cool with Dipper over that- it gives Dipper some grim satisfaction during the most hopeless hours, some sense of victory.


	17. Damage Control (Dipper/Ford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A morning after with Dipper and Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dub-con, underage.

“Dipper?” Ford raps his knuckles gently against the door. “Can we talk?”

He goes inside before Dipper has a chance to reply, finding his nephew sitting on his bed, writing something down into a notebook. Dipper looks surprised, but not afraid; that’s a good sign.

“Sure, Great Uncle Ford.” Dipper puts the notebook aside and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, standing up. He turns towards Ford, clasping his hands behind his back. The stance leaves his body open to Ford; another good sign. “What’s up?”

“I think you know.” Ford closes the door behind him, an action that summons a flash of distress into Dipper’s eyes. Ford leaves the door unlocked, so Dipper knows he has a way out. Keeping his distance from his nephew, Ford says: “We should address what I did to you last night.”

He had argued with Stan about something that he can’t even remember anymore; that’s how insignificant it had been in the end. But Ford had taken the excuse to drink, thinking it would be all right if he stayed in the basement. Dipper had arrived to tell him about something he had discovered in the woods. When Dipper had come close enough, Ford had reached out to grab his wrist.

“It’s all right, Great Uncle Ford. You had been drinking, you weren’t, um, right in the head.” Dipper scratches the back of his head, laughing a little. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

Dipper hadn’t resisted when Ford had pulled him down into his lap. He had hold onto Ford’s shoulders when Ford had started to kiss him, first on the cheeks and the jaw and then finally on the mouth, not kissing back but not trying to turn away either. It had only been when Ford had slipped his hand between their bodies when Dipper had become tense, started squirming.

“I should apologize anyway.” Ford takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry for last night. I was really drunk.”

He had been sober enough to memorize it all, how Dipper’s tense whimpers had turned into awed moans as Ford had stroked him, how fragile Dipper’s earlobe had been between Ford’s teeth and how good Dipper’s weight had felt against his clothed arousal. Only thing Ford had regretted then that he couldn’t make it last forever, that Dipper had slipped away from him so easily once Ford had gone slack after a climax.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

"Of course not!” Ford hates how relieved he feels over Dipper’s fast response, about the way Dipper walks over to him and pats his arm, to soothe him. “It’s between us and us alone, Great Uncle Ford.”

He hates how the thing he’s most relieved about is that this way, he can let Dipper remember this, too.


	18. Something Missing (Stan/Miami!Rick)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan finds himself a job and a new friend at Miami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dub-con, nsfw.

At Club R, Stan is an anomaly. The other dancers are lithe, light creatures who look good in lipstick and skirts no matter what sex they are; Stan is a heavy-set, square thing regardless of what he wears or doesn’t. At any other joint he wouldn’t dance at all, and it hadn’t even been Stan’s idea that he should. Stan is shaking his ass for living because that’s what his boss wants.

“Listen, the m-m-m-motto of this place is that there’s something here for every pervert,” Rick - the R - had slurred to Stan one day, draping one stick-like arm around Stan’s shoulders. “You’re something my stock’s, buuuuurp, been missing, Stan.”

For someone who is such an insufferable dick, Rick can be pretty damn convincing. Stan had given it a try and discovered that Rick had been right: there is a small and dedicated number of people who come to see Stan on regular basis and pay a lot for it. Of course, most of that money goes straight into Rick’s pockets, but even the little that Stan gets gives him all kinds of hope. After a while it becomes hard for him to not look at Rick with constant puppy dog eyes.

Of course, a wolf like Rick Sanchez sniffs puppies like him out immediately.

“Y-you want a bigger paycheck, babe?” Rick’s legs, already set wide apart from one other, swing even further open. “You gotta gimme something in return.”

It feels fair. It doesn’t feel fair at all, but Stan goes down on his knees anyway, shuffling his way between Rick’s long, spindly legs. The horse-sized thing straining against Rick’s pants scares Stan a bit, but he takes it out, fits his hands around it.

“Come on, enough with dainty shit.” Spidery fingers thread into Stan’s hair. “I-I-I know you’ve done this before, kid. I don’t play with virgins.”

Stan’s not sure if he believes that’s true, but he takes Rick into his mouth, all the way to the back of his throat. He lets his throat close up, then open again, stroking the root of Rick’s shaft with his hand; he hates that he knows exactly what to do, that it’s so easy for him to go down this path again. But he wants to keep this job, wants to keep Rick happy, wants to keep hanging onto this thread of hope. This way, he’ll get rich, he’ll get Ford back, he’ll-

“I-I know you don’t want this,” Rick says, who has apparently been having this whole other conversation that Stan knows nothing about inside his own head, “but I’m going to continue until you need me. And youuuurp will, f-f-f-fuck-ups like us gotta stick together-”

Stan swallows him again, to shut him up, to shut his own brain up. He wants to keep hanging on, for now.


	19. Dancing With The Shooting Stars (Mabel/Pacifica)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Pacifica are going to compete in the same reality TV show.

Pacifica gets a warning that Mabel Pines will also be participating in Dancing With The Stars from Mabel’s own brother.

“You know, I have helped you in the past,” Dipper says on the phone before Pacifica has a chance to throw a tantrum. “Several times, even. I don’t think I’ve ever asked you anything in return, but I’m going to ask for one now. Please, be nice to Mabel.”

It’s so unfair, but he isn’t lying. Pacifica knows she owes winning Survivor partially to Dipper: his suggestion to go train with the Manotaurs before her season started had proved invaluable. It had helped her get a million dollars and therefore have money that was hers and hers alone for the first time in her life, enabling her to break free from her parents for good. She knows it would be ridiculous to not give him something tiny as this in return.

Yet, she can’t help but feel ridiculously petty about it.

Sure, Pacifica had  _liked_ being on Survivor. She had liked the physical challenges, she had liked strategizing against the other contestants and getting to blindside a few of them had been a thrill unlike no other. But Mabel had got to participate in and win Project Runway, even making the unlikely leap from the world of reality television fashion into the real thing; that's  _Pacifica’s_  world, her birth right. (She may not want her birth family, but she wants her rights.) Pacifica loves being the fan favorite of her season, loves seeing her name pop up in “Top 10.. in Survivor” lists- but it’s her who should get an article written about her in Vogue, not Mabel.

And still, it’s another reality television show gig that sparks Pacifica’s rage the most. Dancing With The Stars is supposed to be Pacifica’s chance to get new fans, exposure and opportunities; what does Mabel need it for? She has everything she could want; fame, acclaim, adoration. Mabel’s participating in Dancing With The Stars just for the hell of it, and that pisses Pacifica off more than anything. Some of them  _need_  these things.

But, Dipper Pines is right: she does owe a thing or two to him. So when she does inevitably, unavoidably run into Mabel, she’s civilized.

“Looking forward to it,” she comments on Mabel’s Instagram post where Mabel talks about being on television soon again, tagging all her friends from Gravity Falls. Mabel tags her all time, to all possible things, but obviously this time it’s different; all those previous times were courtesy calls, this one is a direct challenge. Pacifica can’t not respond to it.

If Mabel’s going to have fun with this, then so will Pacifica.


	20. On Pet Names (Bill/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper eavesdrops on Ford and Bill having a conversation. Post-show AU with amnesiac Bill.

When he sees Ford lead Bill to the kitchen, Dipper doesn’t mean to follow them. He isn’t, however, going to let Mabel eavesdrop on Ford and Bill on her own, so he goes after her when she heads for the kitchen door, crouching by her side as Bill and Ford start talking.

“Bill,” Ford says. “You really need to stop calling Dipper ‘DipDop’.”

The door is closed so they can’t see what is happening inside the kitchen, but Dipper can already see the exaggerated shock on Bill’s featureless face. He feels vindicated when he hears Bill whine:

“Why?”

Ford sighs. “That’s Mabel’s nickname for him. It’s a private thing for the two of them, that’s why Stan and I don’t use it either. It’s just polite of you to not use it.”

Bill is quiet for a moment.

“But I like it,” Bill says, still whining. Dipper can see that Mabel is rolling her eyes and that makes him smile, even as he wants to march inside the kitchen and shake Bill until his eye falls out.

“It doesn’t matter if you like it. Dipper doesn’t want you to call him that. That’s what matters.”

“What does he want me to call him?”

It takes Dipper so much will power not to say ‘ugh’ under his breath, knowing someone as paranoid as Ford is going to hear it even through the door. He doesn’t like that Ford is taking so long to answer, as if he’s trying to come up with a suitable nickname himself. Isn’t it obvious that just Dipper is fine?

“Just call him Dipper,” Ford says, and Dipper feels relieved. “You two are not close enough for nicknames yet, and whether you will be or not depends on Dipper.”

“When will he want to be close to me?”

“When he’s ready, Bill.”

Dipper snorts. Like that’s ever going to happen!

Bill goes quiet again, and Dipper is willing to bet that he’s pouting. But finally he hears Bill say: “Fine, no DipDop.”

“And no other nicknames either,” Ford insists, his voice irritatingly gentle.

“Fine, no other nicknames either! I’ll wait until he’s ready to be close to me.”

Something about those words, or maybe something else about the kitchen that Dipper hasn’t been paying attention to, makes Mabel freeze before she grabs Dipper from his arm, pulling him away from the kitchen door. She starts to march off, dragging Dipper behind her as the kitchen door opens, letting Ford and Bill out.

Dipper wants to point out that walking away like this just makes them look suspicious, but since neither Ford or Bill are calling after them, he’s happy to go along with his sister. He doesn’t want to turn around and face Bill, see the face of the triangle who just more or less admitted he’s willing to do anything to get close to him. He really doesn’t want to think about that.


	21. We Could Have It All (Filbrick/Ma)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandra has news to tell Filbrick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Written before we found out Ma's real name.

When Sandra breaks the news to Filbrick, when they’re alone in her room, he has brought her flowers. It’s a sweet gesture, more than what he usually goes for; Filbrick isn’t good with this stuff at all. It almost makes her hesitate.

So she just spits it out: “I’m pregnant.”

Filbrick hadn’t been smiling, but the serenity on his face is instantly disturbed, his forehead folding in a frown. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve been to the doctor, they’re sure.” Sandra is having trouble keeping her cool too, but she tries her best, even as her eyes start feeling hot and full. “What are we going to do?”

She’s certain she knows what he’s going to say. Abortion, of course, and she has accepted the fact that it’s probably the best option. Her family is going to agree with that; also, her Mama knows people who can make it happen. The question remains, is Sandra still going to be Filbrick’s girl after that or not?

“Marry me.”

It takes several seconds for the words to hit her brain.

“Filbrick.” Her throat feels so tight. “Do you know what you’re suggesting?”

He stares at her in confusion.

“I know what marriage is.”

“Do you really? It’s for life, Filbrick. Are you really ready for that? You’re young. We’re young.”

“I don’t think that matters.” He shakes his head for a moment, then reaches out to take Sandra’s hands. His hands are strong, steady around hers, holding her firmly like she’s the one who needs to hold onto reality. “Sandra, it’s my child, and you are my girl. It makes sense to me that we should be a family.”

Family. Hers- isn’t perfect, and while she hasn’t met anyone from Filbrick’s family that often, she knows his family isn’t perfect either. That’s part of why she thinks they go so well together; they know just how flawed human beings can be. They don’t have false ideas about each other.

“Can we do it?” she asks him, squeezing his big, comforting hands. “Are we ready?”

“Well, obviously not.” Filbrick smiles a bit as Sandra starts laughing, waiting for her to quiet down again before continuing: “But we should give it a try, I think. We could be really good.”

Sandra glances down at herself, at her still skinny body. It’s insane to think that a life could grow from that belly, that it could become a person, and that she and Filbrick need to be the ones who help it turn out well. That sort of responsibility scares her. She has no idea if they’ll be able to do it.

But.

“Yeah, we could be.” She leans forward, to touch her forehead to Filbrick’s; he sees immediately what she’s trying to do and meets her halfway, stroking her knuckles with his calloused thumbs. She closes her eyes, listening as their breathing melds together. “We could be.”


	22. Where There Is No Comfort (Pinecest)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper can't comfort Mabel as she grieves his death.

The worst thing is, he can’t comfort Mabel when she’s crying.

And she cries a lot. It shocks Dipper, actually; not that he has never seen Mabel cry before, but he had no idea that this many tears could even exist within her. His sister has always been a trooper, cheerful. He had hoped, a little selfishly, that she wouldn’t grieve him for long, that he wouldn’t have to worry about her.

But Mabel’s grief doesn’t end. Stan sends her home, heartbroken himself, and Dipper goes with his sister; even in death, his place is at her side. She locks herself into their room, with only Waddles and Mittens, their kitten, for company, crying herself to sleep every night. She spends her days picking up things from Dipper’s belongings that she doesn’t want anyone to take away, caressing and stroking each item before putting it out of sight. It’s strange to see her lying on her bed with her face buried in his favored red shirts, hugging the garments like they’ll turn into the real him any second now.

Dipper lingers around, trying to touch her shoulders, her hair, anything to soothe her at least a bit. His hands keep going through her, unnoticed; sometimes, he could swear he makes her shiver, but she could also just be cold. Sometimes, Bill is there to laugh in his ear over his efforts.

“To think you were so willing to turn your back on her,” he comments, and Dipper’s ears burn even though they don’t exist anymore.

It makes him feel so bad, that the petty anger he shouldn’t have felt for her in the first place is causing Mabel so much pain now. He can’t stand hearing her talk to herself, about how she let him down, how she had been so selfish, how- he wants to tell it’s all untrue, all of it, that she was just being Mabel and it was him who had been so damn stupid. Mabel had always recovered from her crushes on boys. There is no recovery for Dipper from death.

“I’m so sorry, Dipper,” Mabel whimpers one night, lying in the bed on her side, curled up, face swollen from freshly shed tears. Dipper is lying on the bed across her, running his nonexistent hands along her arms, hoping against hope that that she will finally feel him. “All I needed to do was think of you for one second.”

“All I needed to do was to just think,” Dipper responds, reaching up to capture a tear that is sliding down her cheek towards her ear. It slips through his touch, but he keeps setting fingers onto its path, so that he’s doing something at least. “I’m so sorry, Mabel.”

“I love you.”

They haven’t told each other that ever since they were little kids, since they suddenly decided they were too old for it. Now, neither can say it enough, even though Dipper knows Mabel won’t hear and Mabel thinks that Dipper can’t.

Dipper squeezes his eyes shut; getting to close himself into darkness is one comfort he has as a ghost, even though it does as little good as it does in real life. By the time he opens his eyes again, Mabel has fallen asleep, which is always good. Better that only one of them wrestles with guilt.


	23. Birds Of A Feather (Stanchez, Beth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan's boss has hots for him.

Stan’s new boss isn’t exactly subtle about having the hots for him.

“You make my d-d-d-dick so hard, did you know that?”

“Yup, you’ve said that a few times.”

Stan doesn’t mind. Rick is a sleazy drunk who thinks he’s better than everyone else, but he’s open about the former and doesn’t rub the latter in your face; Stan appreciates that. He hasn’t let Rick have him so far but he can’t say he hasn’t been enjoying the attention.

“H-how do you even have clothes anymore? You must wear them out by being so burrrrrrrrrrping hot!”

“C'mon, keep your voice down. Your kid is right there.”

“Pffft, Beth is used to her old man talking shit all the time. It ain’t gonna stop her from watching movies.”

Rick does, however, settle down after that, allowing them all to focus on The Young Duchess. Rick and Beth had allowed Stan to pick the movie of the night and he’s pretty sure they both regret it; Rick can barely be bothered to focus on what’s happening on the TV screen and while Beth follows the movie, she also keeps climbing over the legs of Rick and Stan and babbling about unrelated matters. Stan doesn’t mind any of that, either. It was nice of them to let him pick the movie in the first place.

“You know, those period clothes would look really good on you.”

“Um, thanks?”

“Especially on the floor by your feet.”

“Oh, for the love of-”

“Heh, watch the language. We’re in presence of a lady.”

A lady who eventually tires herself out before the movie even ends, meaning Stan has to get her ready for bed. Rick tries to smack Stan on the ass when he gets up to leave, only to miss and hard; Stan hears Rick cursing as he almost drops his flask, which makes him smile.

“H-hey, I saw that! You better gimme something good to make up for that.”

Stan ignores him, taking Beth to her room. When he returns Rick, Rick has decided to lie down on the couch, effectively taking it over with his long frame and limbs.

“I think this is my cue to leave.” Stan walks over to close the TV, hearing as Rick groans behind him.

“You always leave me.” 

“I always come back.”

Stan doesn’t mind being involved with this little family unit. In theory, he doesn’t even mind getting involved with Rick, even though he worries about the pickup line he’ll eventually fall for.

It’s just that, families tend to burn him. He hopes this one won’t.


	24. Unsaid (Stanchez)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan has been part of Flesh Curtains entourage, but it's time for him to go.

“You’re really going to leave Squanch and his band, eh?”

Stan laughs at the cat - maybe Squanch isn’t really a cat, but Stan can’t help but think of him as one - as he packs his things, getting ready to leave the Flesh Curtains entourage behind him. “I thought it was Rick’s band,” he comments.

“Eh, that’s what all lead singers think!” Squanch says, shrugging. “It’s a shame, you’re a great guy to have around. From now on, I’ll think of you every time I squanch.”

“Thanks, it meant a lot for me to hear that.”

Squanch laughs, giving him a surprisingly hard smack on the back before leaving. Stan is soon ready with his bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he heads for the Stanmobile. He isn’t surprised to find Rick beside the car, leaning against it.

“Hey, watch the paint job.”

“W-why? I haven’t shat my pants.”

“-nice to know that’s something I should worry about.”

Stan opens the trunk and puts his bag in, slamming it shut. In the meantime, Rick has now spread himself over the car door so he’s barricading it, refusing to budge when Stan walks over to him.

“Rick, come on.” Stan tries to pry Rick loose, only for Rick to plaster himself tighter against the car door.

“W-w-what if I don’t want you to go? What if I’m - buuuuuuuuuurp - just going to be here forever?” Rick is refusing to meet Stan’s eyes, staring at his jaw instead as he keeps latching onto the car again every time Stan manages to loosen his hold. But it’s a warm day and Rick is drunk as usual, and in the end Stan is able to pull him off.

“Have you thought about just asking me to stay?” Stan asks even as he opens the car door and gets in, rolling the window down so he and Rick can keep talking.

Rick looks at him from few steps away, spitting on the ground before striding over, leaning against the roof of the car as he leans down towards the window. “I know you’re going to say no,” he says, spittle running down his jaw from the corner of his mouth. “B-b-b-back when you started, you said that when you’re done, you’re - burrrp - done. I believed you. I ain’t gonna beg.”

Yet he makes no attempt to move away from the car window.

Stan hesitates for a moment before reaching out to grab Rick from the strap of his wife beater. He gives a tug, Rick follows it until he’s leaning inside the Stanmobile, giving Stan a chance to brush their mouths together. Rick lets him kiss him, even though he doesn’t do much to kiss him back; Stan opens his eyes and sees that Rick is looking at him, his gaze unreadable. When it registers to Rick that Stan is looking at him too, Rick finally starts returning the kiss, his eyes sliding shut as he reaches out to grab Stan from the back of his head, pulling him as close as possible.

It’s nice, sweeter than their starving kisses usually tend to be. It doesn’t last too long as Rick suddenly yanks himself away, backing off from the car.

“All right, so fuck off! You’ll be sorry when I hit it big, bitch!”

Digging for his flask from the pockets of his vest, Rick walks away.

Stan looks after him for a while before rolling the window shut and starting the car. He always knew Rick wasn’t going to beg; he’s not going to, either.


	25. Negative Positive (Bill/Xanthar)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill faces Xanthar after getting him pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Bill is quite nasty in this one, Xanthar is a teenager.

Bill hears about Xanthar’s pregnancy from Pyronica.

“You want me to talk to him about it?” He laughs in her face. “And why would I do that, Nikki?”

She frowns at him, crossing her arms across her chest. It’s a hot look on her. “You’re the one who got him pregnant,” she says, all stern.

“So?”

“So! He needs to hear from you that you’re not going to kill him for that! That’s what he thinks is going to happen.”

“Hmm, not a bad idea actually.”

“Bill!”

Well, Bill supposes he has to be nice. Xanthar has been a good minion to have after all, not pissing him off on regular basis as Kryptos does. “Anything for you, Pink,” he says, and Pyronica starts to smile.

He searches for Xanthar from his castle in the Nightmare Realm, finding him in some corner Bill didn’t even remember existed. He guesses Xanthar really is upset about the whole pregnancy thing, which Bill doesn’t understand. He  _had_  explained what could happen if Xanthar let Bill come inside him, and that Xanthar being a boy would be no problem for Bill. Xanthar might as well be unhappy with his own head if he’s going to have an issue with Bill’s power and biology.

“Hey, kiddo, what’s up?” Bill smacks Xanthar between his massive shoulders before sitting on the top of his head, letting his feet hang before Xanthar’s featureless face. “I heard I fertilized you! Funny how that happens when you forget to use protec-”

Xanthar  _swats_  him off.

Size aside, Bill is much stronger than Xanthar could ever hope to be, so the swat doesn’t really harm him. Still, it’s unpleasant and kind of  humiliating to be treated like a fly, and Bill is sure to punish Xanthar by sending a massive current of electricity running through him before floating over to him again.

“All right, so it was an asshole thing to do! I guess this was too, ha.” Xanthar is made of tough stuff though, already starting to get up again. He turns his face towards Bill, giving him a long look that just radiates silent anger, then sits up on his haunches, cradling his belly. Bill scoffs at that, floating over to sit on Xanthar’s head again.

“You know, that thing is still fresh. I can get rid of it with snap of my fingers.”

He bursts into laughter when he sees Xanthar first go pale, then start shaking his head as well as he can, given he doesn’t have much of a neck. The movement makes hard for Bill to keep on sitting on him, but he manages it, holding onto the edge of Xanthar’s forehead as he hollers.

“I can’t believe it, you’ve gone soft on it already! It just started existing!” Sentimentality of living creatures, or even fellow immortals, never ceases to amuse him. “What does this mean, Xanthar? You want to be my baby mama? You want to be my wife?”

Xanthar’s hands ball up in fists against his belly, but he doesn’t try to swat Bill again. Smart boy.

“Well, you are free to try out this teen pregnancy thing, but don’t expect any help from me! I would fix a mistake instead of letting it grow but that’s just me.” He pats Xanthar on his head, floating off. “Don’t think this relieves you of any of your duties, either! I expect same performances from you as always, regardless of how much you swell up!”

Now that should be pretty fun, to see how big Xanthar gets with a baby inside and how hard it gets for him to perform his duties. Maybe Bill will get some kind of kick out of this pregnancy thing after all, considering he’s not going to get much out of the kid itself. He can let Xanthar go through with the pregnancy, but he has no intention to let the kid live.

“So yeah, join us again when you feel like it!” Bill takes off, leaving Xanthar to pet his still flat belly, think about his unborn.


	26. You Could Call It Dream Sex (Xyler/Craz/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel has a great dream about Xyler and Craz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW, older!Mabel, threesome, double penetration.

“Welcome back, Mabel!” Xylar and Craz say in unison when the dream begins, waiting for her in a king-sized, heart-shaped bed.

With a grin, Mabel climbs upon the bed, wiggling her hips as she approaches her boys. When she reaches the empty space between them, Craz gives her a light slap on her ass while Xylar reaches for her breasts, cupping them one by one.

“Dat ass, Mabel!”

“Your boobs are so soft, Mabel!”

“What do you want us to do, Mabel?”

Mabel giggles. She can’t believe she’s about to ask this, but- “I want both of our dicks inside me at the same time.”

Xylar’s eyes widen first, then Craz’s. They stare at each other over Mabel, who is settling down on the bed onto her side, with their mouths open. She sees that Xylar starts grinning, and when that happens it’s safe to assume that Craz is grinning, too.

“Yeah, let’s do it!”

“We’re gonna stuff you good, Mabel!”

“It’s not gay if it’s threeway!”

“Well, maybe it’s a little gay.”

“Have an open mind, Craz!”

“You have an open mind, Xylar!”

“Hey,” Mabel interrupts. “Let’s remember who this is about, boys.”

“Sorry, Mabel!”

Good, sensitive boys that they are, Xylar and Craz start making up for their lack of attentiveness. They palm her breasts, rolling them around in their hands and brushing their thumbs over her nipples. Craz, cradled up behind her, kisses her neck and shoulders, pressing his cock against her ass; Xylar, facing her from the front, pushes a knee between her legs, rubbing her labia gently with his thigh. Mabel closes her eyes, losing herself in the tenderness of her boys.

“You should eat her out, Xylar!”

“Good idea, Craz!”

Craz wraps his arms around her and rolls over to his back, dragging Mabel on top of him. While he continues to stroke her breasts with one hand, he slips another between Mabel’s legs, seeking out her clit with the tip of his middle finger. Xylar leans between her legs then, gently parting her folds with his fingers and feeling around her opening while he touches his lips to her clit, giving it a kiss.

“Faster, Xylar!”

“You take your time with a lady, Craz!”

But then Xylar’s tongue is flicking against Mabel’s clit, working together with Craz’s finger, and Mabel can feel herself grow damper. Xylar’s fingers scissor inside her, peeling her open; Craz takes his other hand into his mouth and wets his fingers, using the now slick fingers to tease her nipples to even further hardness. Mabel moans, reaching backwards with her hands to grasp Craz from the back of his head, bringing him closer for a kiss.

“Hey, I’m kissing her too!” Xylar does; he leaves her clit be for a moment and draws his fingers out of Mabel’s cunt, leaning in to kiss and suck on her folds, reach inside her with his tongue.

“Are you ready for our cocks, Mabel?” Craz asks when his and Mabel’s lips part, staring at her with dark, needy eyes.

Mabel nods, burning with want herself. Xylar gets up from between her legs and takes his cock into his hand, taking the head to Mabel’s cunt as Craz pushes up against her from below. When the heads of their cocks nestle together, both Xylar and Craz moan; Mabel joins them when they start sliding inside her, filling her to the rim.

“Are you okay, Mabel?”

“Tell us if it hurts, Mabel.”

It doesn’t hurt; it feels a little uncomfortable first, but Mabel gets used to it quickly, rocking her hips carefully against Xylar’s while Craz rocks beneath her. For a while, that’s all they do, getting used to the feel of each other like this.

“Are you ready for more, Mabel?”

“Yes,” she says, and that’s when Xylar and Craz let loose.

It takes them a while to get hang of it, how to move inside her without slipping out or disturbing each other, but her boys are quick learners, and soon they are moving in a perfect tandem within Mabel, their cocks sliding easily in and out. It feels amazing; she’s never felt so full, so warm inside, and the pressure created by their dicks feels amazing on her clit. She reaches between her and Xylar’s bodies to stroke herself anyway, tilting her head upward in a welcome when Xylar leans down for a kiss. Craz is kissing on the ear, licking the lobe as his hands continue to squeeze and massage Mabel’s breasts.

“Mabel, I’m coming!”

“Me too!”

And so is Mabel, her body arching like a bow as Xylar and Craz slam into her for final time, holding themselves inside her as their cocks twitch in their release. Mabel keeps rocking against them through her own orgasm, until she falls limp against Craz, who has gone slack beneath her while Xylar moves away from them and collapses on the bed onto his back, slinging his arm over his eyes.

They lie there in silence for a moment, chests heaving as they pant, bodies shining with sweat. Deciding she’s being inconsiderate, Mabel rolls off Craz’s body, taking her place between him and Xylar again. She closes her eyes when she feels their hands on her, Xylar stroking the curve of her hip while Craz gathers her hair into his hands and sniffs it.

“That was amazing, Mabel.”

“I’ll never forget this, Mabel.”

“Same, and me neither,” Mabel mumbles in reply. This dream is indeed going to the archives.


	27. Dead Men's Party (Rick Sanchez/Ford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unlucky Rick Sanchez has to be a lackey to victorious Bill, and look after Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW, non-con, slavery, implied Billrick and Billford.

Rick Sanchez is the smartest man in the multiverse, but some versions of Rick are smarter than others. Rick from dimension C-113 knows he’s not one of the smarter ones; hell, it’s questionable if he has a brain at all. If he did, he would have made it out of Bill Cipher’s way before the inter-dimensional triangle began expanding his empire outside the Nightmare Realm, starting his takeover of the multiverse. He wouldn’t have ended up as one of Bill’s toyboys, as Bill’s Bitch Rick.

“Hey, Ricky! Fetch your buddy for me, won’t you?”

Whenever Bill isn’t out there terrorizing all living creatures, he hangs out in his ever-expanding Fearamid, hosting endless parties. Right now, Bill is lounging in his throne while Rick is sitting on a red pillow on the arm of the throne. Rick is still allowed to dress in his usual clothes, but he knows that will change soon; he can only imagine what kind of insane harem outfit he’ll be forced to wear. He gets up from the pillow and digs out a rope ladder from beneath it, ready to head out of the throne room and venture into the Fearamid in search of Stanford Pines.

“Don’t stop to play with him when you find him!” Bill shouts to him once the ladder is all set and Rick starts climbing down. “Not before I allow you to, ha ha!”

Rick grits his teeth, but says nothing, continuing to climb down until he has reached the floor, after which he heads to the many corridors of the Fearamid. The castle is always changing, so Rick doesn’t really have any idea where he’s going; he just has to hope his search won’t take several hours. Ford is in the dungeons, always held there whenever Bill isn’t fucking him; Rick doesn’t know why, but he’s not going to question it. As long as his family is safe, he’s only going to ask how high if Bill asks him to jump.

Even if it makes him feel dirty.

This time, it takes him only about an hour to find the dungeons, and the door to Ford’s cell has even been illuminated this time. Ford is lying naked on the cell floor when Rick enters it, covered in spunk of various colors and textures; apparently Bill has given his cronies the permission to have a go at him. Rick hesitates for a moment before kneeling down next to Ford, poking the man between his shoulder blades. Ford instantly flinches, but when he looks over his shoulder at Rick, he seems to relax a bit, starting to prop himself up from the floor.

“Time to go again, I suppose?”

“Y-yeah.” Rick looks at Ford’s body closely as Ford gets up, searching for bruises and cuts. He’s relieved when he finds none; whatever has taken place in this room, at least it has been reasonably painless. Rick has a feeling Bill has something else in mind for Ford once they’re in the throne room, but he doesn’t want to think about it too much. Not until he has to.

“Are we on a timer?” Ford asks him after he has stood up, turning around so he and Rick are face to face while Rick stands up from the floor himself. Ford looks exhausted, older than Rick knows he is. “I was wondering-”

“We can’t talk.” Rick knows what Ford wants: knowledge about his family, a brainstorming session about an escape plan, maybe even some basic sympathy. Most Ricks may have been able to offer at least one of the first two things, but he’s not that Rick. He’s the Sell-Out Rick, the Coward Rick, Out Only For Himself Rick. It’s unfortunate, but Ford has run out of luck.

He expects Ford to argue with him, plead to his better side or talk about how Ricks he has known are different. But Ford says nothing, simply nodding as he starts to walk past Rick towards the cell door. Rick frowns at Ford’s back before heading after him , knowing that the throne room will be waiting for them outside the cell instead of the dungeons. Playtime always makes Bill impatient.

They both stand right at the doorway for a moment, hearts racing in their chests. Ford is the first one to go out, and Rick follows him.


	28. Distracted (Wendy/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel loves Wendy's muscles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, older!Mabel.

Mabel’s favorite thing about Wendy has always been her strength. She loves how Wendy can climb a tree like a monkey and take on any challenger in a fight; if she has one fond memory of the Weirdmageddon, it’s of Wendy in the battle against Bill’s friends, bending an eye bat to her will like it wasn’t something that had terrorized the whole town for days. Back then, she used to want to be like Wendy.

It’s a little different these days. These days, Mabel just wants Wendy.

She’s watching Wendy chop wood now; apparently it’s a chore that Wendy needs to do every day, but Wendy doesn’t seem to mind, swinging the ax and splitting logs to smaller logs with ease. Mabel can’t stop staring at the way muscles flex and bulge beneath her skin, how they move together in perfect harmony; Mabel herself is supposed to be eating a popsicle, but she can hardly remember how to do that. Wendy doesn’t seem to notice, working her way through a log pile until there is nothing left, and only then does she stop to wipe sweat off her brow.

“Geesh, it’s hot in here.” It’s true; Wendy’s white tank top has become soaked with sweat, especially from the armpits and from between her breasts. When Wendy looks in her direction, Mabel does her best to pretend that she wasn’t watching, pretending her popsicle is the most interesting thing in the world.

“It’s summer,” she says, dumbly. “Do you need help putting those away?”

After the wood has been put in the shed, they go inside Wendy’s house, that happens to be empty for the night. Her father and brother are away doing father and son things, and Wendy would have been welcome to join them, but she had chosen to hang around with Mabel instead. Mabel had been happy about that then and still is, but she kind of hopes that other people were around. She could use focusing on someone other than Wendy for a change.

“I need to hit the shower,” Wendy declares as she closes the door behind her and Mabel. “How about you pick us the movie in the meanwhile?”

For a moment, Mabel is too distracted to move, thinking of Wendy standing in the shower, letting water stream over her as she stretches her limbs and back. “Sure thing!” she says, cringing at how overly cheerful she sounds.

She hopes things will get a little better in Wendy’s room, where she can focus on the selection of movies and not on the sounds of water running and splashing against Wendy’s skin, but there is one problem: Wendy’s bed. Mabel can’t resist lying down on it, inhaling its scent and trying to figure out how much of it is Wendy and how much of it is the bed it self. She rolls over to her back, staring at the ceiling as her skirt hitches slightly up. She reaches down, hitching it up a little more.

Mabel starts stroking herself through her panties, resting the tip of her middle finger against her clit as she thinks of Wendy chopping the wood, gleaming with sweat. In her mind, she peels Wendy’s tank top off her sticky skin, letting it fall down into the grass. She kneels down to pull Wendy’s jeans down, yanking them over her slim hips and sending them sliding down to her ankles, revealing her lean, muscular legs. As she imagines running her hands over the backs of Wendy’s calves, she presses down with her middle finger, feeling as her clit throbs.

Water is still running elsewhere in the house, but Mabel hurries anyway, summoning images of Wendy into her mind: her back muscles and the defined dip of her spine, her firm ass and the dimples by her tailbone (that she saw by a pure accident once, when Wendy’s top was riding up and her pants were slung low and they’ve been burned to Mabel’s mind ever since), her breasts and the way they move when she breathes in and out. Mabel thinks of those strong arms entwining around her body, lifting her off the ground with ridiculous ease, pressing her up against a tree, a wall, carrying her to the bed-

She bucks against her own hand, grinding down hard with her finger until all energy leaves her. She has the sense of mind to push her skirt down before she lets herself flop against the bed, closing her eyes for a moment. She can hear how the water is turned off in the shower, meaning her timing was just right.

When Wendy enters the room, still toweling herself off, Mabel is finally taking a look at Wendy’s DVDs, trying to figure out what she’d like to watch that night.

“Still deciding?” Wendy asks, sitting down on the bed herself.

“Yep.” She’s trying to find something that would distract her from Wendy, but she’s not sure if such thing exists anymore.


	29. Prodigal Son (Filbrick/Stan) (EXTRA DARK, READ NOTE)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan tries to pass for Ford at Ma's funeral. It fails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW, non-con, father/son incest.
> 
> Features an alternative ending with SNUFF.

At Ma’s funeral, Stan does his best to pass for Ford. Filbrick sees right through him.

“I knew you were still alive,” Filbrick notes wryly as he grabs Stan from the jaw, staring into his terrified eyes. “Leeches don’t die that easy.”

First, Stan expects Filbrick to turn him over to the cops, which is stupid of him; Stan as Ford has been a reliable source of money to Pa and Ma for years since Ford’s disappearance and Filbrick is not going to throw that away. But that doesn’t mean Filbrick isn’t going to punish Stan for letting himself get caught.

“It must have been hard for you to make your living on the streets,” Filbrick says, his hand heavy on Stan’s neck.

The space between Filbrick’s thighs is as warm, damp and narrow as it was when Stan was a little boy, but Filbrick’s cock is smaller than Stan remembers it being. Filbrick makes him choke on it, anyway, thrusting so deep into Stan’s throat that Stan’s face ends up getting buried in his pubic hair, his nostrils filling with his father’s strong musk. Stan gags and coughs when he’s allowed to pull away, which makes Filbrick laugh.

“Still an amateur.” Filbrick takes Stan’s wrist into his hand, pulling at him to get him to stand up. He tugs at him towards the bedroom, the bed. They’ve never done this in one before. “Maybe you’re still tight, too.”

Stan has had a lot of practice with dicks by now, but he still can’t sit on his father’s cock without shaking all over, his body tightening like a vice the moment he feels the head of Filbrick’s cock push against him. Beneath him, Filbrick grunts, gripping Stan’s hips as he tries to push them downward, but Stan’s body is all clenched up in fear, refusing entry. It doesn’t take long for Filbrick to start getting mad.

“Don’t get difficult with me,” Filbrick warns, and something about his tone makes Stan go back to his childhood, to the first time he tried to tell Filbrick no and how that made his father grab him from the arm and hiss in his face:

“If you know what’s good for you, you should stop trying to tell people about this.”

His body remembers the best course of action: it falls slack.

“That’s better,” Filbrick says, voice softening. He slides one hand up Stan’s back, stroking the muscular slope as he starts to move his hips, his cock splitting Stan open as it thrusts up into him.

It’s just like back in the old days, when Stan was small and scared and Filbrick knew what he was doing, making sure he’d fit inside Stan no matter how painful or difficult it was. Just like then, Filbrick even pretends to be gentle, stroking Stan’s back and the side of his hip, his ass.

“Welcome home, son,” Filbrick says, and Stan closes his eyes before the tears come.

 

 

 

 

BONUS:

“If you know what’s good for you, you should stop trying to tell people about this.”

His vision goes red.

Grasping Filbrick from the shoulders, Stan slams his hips down, taking Filbrick’s cock inside in one go. He starts to ride the old man, hard and fast and merciless, like he’s trying to grind him to dust. Filbrick tries to go along with the flow first, but it soon becomes too much for him, and he starts to say: “Goddamn it, slow-”

His words are cut off with an airless gasp.

Stan keeps fucking himself on Filbrick’s cock, even as his father’s eyes start to bug out and he goes stiff like a board beneath him. He keeps going even when Filbrick goes limp, when his eyes roll to the back of his head.

_Heart attacks are a bitch, aren’t they?_

Stan pulls away when he’s sure that the erection inside him isn’t alive anymore, so roughly that his ass clenches and unclenches in protest, but Stan ignores that, glancing down at his own nude body. Neither Filbrick or Stan have touched Stan’s dick, but it has become hard at some point, and for once Stan is going to take care of himself. He runs into the bathroom to jack off, and to vomit.

Once he’s done shaking like a leaf, he returns to Filbrick’s body, a warm towel in hand. He cleans up his father as well as he can; later, it will shock him how easy it is to get away with fucking your father to death. For now, he has only one thing to say.

“Who’s all screwed now?”


	30. Gratitude In Attitude (Robbie/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie helps Mabel make sure Dipper's date goes well.

Robbie may not be the most upstanding guy in Gravity Falls, but he is a guy who pays his debts. Therefore when Mabel Pines, who single-handedly saved him from brooding over Wendy for the rest of his life three summers ago, asks him to help with something, he immediately agrees. Even though he has some questions.

“Isn’t Dipper, like, some amateur detective or something?” He and Mabel are spying on Dipper and Gideon Gleeful from the safety of Robbie’s car, while Dipper and Gleeful are taking a walk across the Gravity Falls cemetery. Robbie can only wonder if Dipper had these kinds of dates in mind for Wendy, too. “How do you know he’s not onto you already?” he asks Mabel.

“He investigates supernatural stuff, he doesn’t get humans,” Mabel says, wiping at the lenses of the binoculars with the sleeve of her sweater before lifting them up on her nose. “I was really discreet! Seriously, he has no idea I’m here. We’ll be fine.”

Robbie isn’t so sure about that, but he knows by now that Mabel Pines is a stubborn girl, so he doesn’t try to argue with her. “If you say so,” he says, shrugging. He realizes a second later that his pretended indifference will only go to waste when her back is turned to him, so he lets himself look at her instead.

He knows damn well why she’s here. The bad blood between Gleeful and the Pines family didn’t go unnoticed by anyone during that first summer, and even though they have all made up with each other since then, nobody has forgotten about it. Mabel obviously wants to make sure that her brother will be all right, and Robbie can sympathize with that. After all, he had the same urges about Tambry when she started dating again after their break-up. But his friends had warned him against getting too creepy like he had done with Wendy, and Mabel probably needs someone to do the same thing for her.

Robbie guesses he owes her that.

“You know,” he starts, only to fall silent as Mabel gasps sharply beside him.

“They’re kissing!” There is a slight squeak in her voice, and her grin is basically blinding when she turns to look at him. Robbie can’t help but stare at her, mouth hanging open. “They’re hugging and everything! I could die.”

“Maybe you- shouldn’t?” He shakes his head, then runs a hand through his hair. It always calms him down to touch his own hair, like he’s in a photo-shoot or something. He has fantasies, okay? “You know, maybe Dipper’s going to be okay. He’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

“Duh, of course he can!” But she looks a little chastened, meaning that Robbie was on the right track about her motivations. Encouraged by that, he reaches out to set his hand on Mabel’s shoulder, holding onto it lightly as he says:

“He’s gonna be okay. You just need to, like, trust what he’s doing.”

Mabel looks down at Robbie’s hand that’s on her, looking a little astounded; as if she expected him to grip her really hard or something. That kind of hurts Robbie’s feelings, if he’s honest with himself, but the hurt disappears when she grabs his hand with both of hers, smiling to him again.

“You know, you’re right! I’ve got to have faith in him, he knows what’s up.” She takes his fingers between hers, squeezing and rubbing them. “Dang though, are your hands always this cold?”

“Sometimes,” Robbie says, surprised by this turn of events. Her fingers feel really hot against his, her skin almost sticky; yet when she lets go of his hand, he wants her to take it back. He gets another surprise when Mabel reaches out to pat him on the knee, then leans back into the front seat.

“Well, since we’re not needed here anymore, you might as well take me home!” She’s still smiling to him. “Thanks for doing this, Robbie.”

“Any time.” With her touch still lingering on his knee and his hand, Robbie starts the car. He has an unpleasant feeling that he really means that, that he’ll be ready to go whenever she tells him so.


	31. Untitled #3 (Mabel/Pacifica)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pacifica has a problematic relationship with food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Deals with dysfunctional attitude to eating.

All her life, Pacifica has been warned against comfort food. Not only it is unhealthy, but it shows a weakness of character; something a Northwest is never allowed to have. So when Mabel talks to her about baking whenever she feels sad, Pacifica wants to lecture her.

“Don’t give me that look,” Mabel snaps at her before Pacifica can even say anything. “A little sweetness never hurt anyone.”

She doesn’t, however, try to make Pacifica part-take in her little sweetness, which Pacifica appreciates; as much as she’s trying to be less like her parents now, some things go deep. When Mabel shows her brownies that she made recently, her mother’s disapproving face flashes in Pacifica’s mind, and all she can do is smile and hope Mabel moves onto other things soon.


	32. The Spying Game (Stan/Fiddleford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan notices someone spying on his house.

Some time after the Murder Hut business has taken off, Stan notices that someone is spying on Ford’s house.

Instantly, he’s nervous. People of Gravity Falls are weird, but they don’t shove their noses into other people’s business; once Stan closes the Hut down for the day, people leave him alone. The lurker makes no attempt to approach Stan, but Stan suspects it’s only a matter time until they will, and he’s not going to give them that chance. He starts to think about traps he could leave around the woods, ones that will ensnare intruders but not potential customers; he goes to the forest to look for suitable spots for such traps. He ends up running straight into the culprit himself.

“Darnation!” A worn, scholarly guy bounces out of the bushes after Stan tries to poke through them with his cane, to scare off any creatures that could be possibly stalking his ankles. Surprised, Stan can only stare at the guy as he simply crouches back down among the bushes, scribbling something into his notebook with furious speed.

“He- hey!” Stan puts his cane away in order to push the branches of the bushes aside with his hands, revealing the stranger to him again. “What are you doing there, spying on my house? Go home!”

The guy just ignores him, sitting cross-legged on the ground as he continues to write things down next to a coarse drawing of someone who is obviously meant to be Stan. Stan looks down at the man, having no idea what to do; he had expected one of Rico’s goons to be here, meaning his attempt to take over Ford’s life had been a failure after all. There is no way this guy is a thug, but who he is and what Stan should do with him, he doesn’t know. Thugs he could have tried to bribe to make them leave, but how does he get a science nerd to piss off?

Wait, a science nerd? Stan’s heart starts jumping so hard he feels like he’s choking on it, and he finds himself crouching down in front of the man, grabbing him tight from the shoulders as he tries not to shake.

“Hey!”

“That’s what I said!” He forces his fingers to unclench and pull away from the guy, breathing in deeply in order to calm himself down. Okay, so this guy is a science nerd; that doesn’t necessarily mean anything, except how many science nerds has he run into in this town? A total of zero. This guy  _has_  to have something to do with Ford. “You’re spying on me. Why?”

The guy stares at him, looking- a little deranged, now that Stan is seeing him up close. Part of him is getting anxious about that, but he stays right where he is, waiting for the guy to respond, getting ready to make him respond if he doesn’t. He has to know if this guy knows, if-

“That isn’t your house,” the guy says, and for a moment Stan can’t breathe. “I don’t know  _whose_  it is, but I know it’s not yours. You’re an impostor.”

Watching him with eyes that are all clear and calm, the guy leans closer, close enough for his long nose to bump against Stan’s knocker.

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I will find out. And when I do, I’ll tell everyone who you really are. Consider your days numbered.”

The guy gets up, tucking his notepad into his armpit. He stops to squeak at squirrels in a decidedly ranty manner before walking off for good, leaving Stan alone in the bushes.

It takes a while for Stan to pick himself up and go, mind lost in a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. He knows that he should have stopped the guy from going, tried convincing him that he really is Stanford Pines, except this guy knows the real one. Stan doesn’t know why the guy is claiming he doesn’t, but there is no way he’d be so sure Stan was an impostor if he didn’t. Maybe he has one really convenient amnesia or something, who knows? It’s perfectly possible in this town. Everything is so weird in here.

Either way, if this guy is going to be a thorn on his side from now on, Stan is willing to let him be. He has to be careful about this, make sure the guy doesn’t actually rat him out, but Stan will let him be for now. If being stalked is how Stan is going to get Ford back, then that’s what he’ll do.


	33. Keep It Clinical (Stanchez)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan visits a doctor. It leads to grave robbing.

Of course, the doctor Stan meets is absolutely fucking insane.

“L-l-l-look, this pill will cure any food poisoning in matter of seconds, and food poisoning is what, buuuuurp, that’s what you’re suffering from right now.” The doctor waves a huge pink pill before Stan’s face, his impossibly long legs tangling together with Stan’s in an all too comfortable manner. “T-take this and do what I tell you to do, and you won’t have to pay a thing.”

Stan should know better than to go for deals like this, but the doctor had him at ‘you won’t have to pay’; he takes the pill and swallows it, accepting a cup of water from the doctor. The doctor stares at Stan as Stan drinks the cup empty, drool escaping from the corners of his mouth; it unsettles Stan first, but that’s when the pill kicks in and Stan feels like he’s never been sick at all, and suddenly this insane guy is the best thing in Stan’s life right now.

“All right, I’m yours. What do you want me to do?”

The doctor checks him out, eyes roaming from Stan’s hair to his toes and up again in a way that makes Stan immediately regret his decision. “W-well, I can think of lots of, eeeeeurgh, things, but here’s one for starters.”

This is how they end up in the morgue to steal corpses.

“I’m NOT going to start hacking them up!”

“F-f-fine, you fucking loser. H-help me get one in the car.”

In the end, they would have probably done a faster job of getting the corpse in the car if the doctor hadn’t constantly stopped to drink from his flask, but by the time they’ve folded the poor dead sod into the trunk of the car, Stan is in need of a drink too.

“Can I have some?”

“Get your own flask.”

But the doctor hands the flask over, staring at Stan as Stan throws his head back and takes a long gulp. It seems like the guy has a little trouble understanding the concept of personal space; fortunately, Stan is used to that.

“Y-y-you want a lift home?” the doctor asks, leaning close to heave a sour breath right into Stan’s face. Stan grimaces at the stench, but it doesn’t stop him from raising his eyebrows at the suggestion.

“You think I want to ride the same car as a corpse?”

“Hey, you were the one, euuuuuurgh, desperate enough to show up at my clinic,” the doctor says, shrugging as he takes his flask back. “So sorry for assuming you’re desperate enough to do all sorts of other things, too.”

Stan doesn’t have a counter-argument for that, so into the car he goes.

It’s far from being the only day he does questionable things for the sake of Rick Sanchez.


	34. Caught In a Hit And Run (Stan/Jimmy Snakes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve got to go,” Stan says. Originally written for Kinktober 2017.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW, rough sex.

“I’ve got to go,” Stan says.

This day has been a long time coming; Stan knows Jimmy knows this as well. Stan had joined Jimmy’s gang in order to get the Stanmobile back after it had been stolen; today, that goal had been accomplished. There’s no reason for Stan to stick around anymore. They should both know it, but Stan can’t help but feel nervous about Jimmy’s reaction.

He’s not sure whether to feel surprised or not when Jimmy barely pays attention to him, his arm still loosely slung around Stan’s waist as they sit on the couch and watch the TV together. They are at somebody’s house, but Stan is pretty sure it’s not Jimmy’s and it sure as hell isn’t his. Stan hasn’t minded stays like this so far, but now that he has his car back, he has other options again. He wants to make use of them.

“You’ve made a good addition to the gang,” Jimmy says, after a long silence. “You’re smart, you’re slick. Just the kind of guy we need.” His hand, which has been resting on Stan’s hip, slides lower, fingers creeping over to Stan’s crotch. “The kind of guy I need.”

“Jim,” Stan says, grabbing Jimmy’s wrist. But he doesn’t pull Jimmy’s hand away; he lets Jimmy fondle him, biting his lip as Jimmy’s long, clever fingers search his cock through his boxers and give it a squeeze, before rubbing it through the old cotton. Jimmy likes to do this kind of thing a lot, distract Stan with sex, but Stan would be lying if he claimed he didn’t like it.

“I think you should stay, Stan.” Jimmy turns towards him, reaching out to take the tip of Stan’s jaw between his fingers and tilt his head slightly up, looking him deep in the eyes. Jimmy’s eyes are full of emotion that Stan doesn’t quite recognize, and he doesn’t have the time to when Jimmy leans in to kiss him, nibbling gently on his lips. Stan laughs into the kiss, always ticklish when Jimmy’s mustache rubs against his face; Jimmy doesn’t mind, simply pushing Stan backwards on the couch.

Stan lets himself be maneuvered, falling down on his back as Jimmy follows him, settling on top of him. Stan reaches out to run a hand down Jimmy’s back, feeling the muscles there through Jimmy’s thin, white wife-beater, making Jimmy growl low with pleasure. The hand on Stan’s crotch withdraws for a moment, only to slip inside Stan’s boxers, palming his stiff cock and balls.

“We could be amazing together,” Jimmy continues, kissing Stan all over his face, on his nose, on his cheeks, his tongue licking over Stan’s lips. “We’ve already been amazing together. We could keep on doing that, forever.” His fingers fish Stan’s cock into their grasp and start stroking it, making Stan’s whole body curve. “Don’t you like the sound of that?”

“It’s nice,” Stan admits, allowing himself a moan when Jimmy’s mouth finds his neck, the underside of his jaw.

“So why ruin that?” Jimmy’s thumb brushes against the head of Stan’s cock, feeling its shape and texture, moving up to tease the slit. Jimmy’s own cock is hard against Stan’s thigh, distinct even through his jeans. “Why not stay, Stan?”

Jimmy’s hand dips down for Stan’s balls for a moment, giving them both a quick massage before returning up again, stroking Stan’s cock until it starts to leak, white trails of pre-come trickling down to Jimmy’s fingers. He grabs the waistband of Stan’s boxers with his other hand and starts to pull them down, exposing Stan’s hips and thighs. When Jimmy lifts his weight off him, Stan knows it’s time for him to move onto his stomach, so he does so, reaching before him to grab a pillow to hold onto. Jimmy likes to go in dry, and Stan can handle it, but it’s still uncomfortable first, and he can’t help but tremble a bit.

“I could take care of you,” Jimmy says, surprising Stan; this is usually the point when Jimmy goes quiet, focusing more on getting Stan ready than on sweet-talk. He does press two fingers inside Stan, making him groan; he soothes Stan by kissing him on the shoulder, his long, blond hair mixing together with Stan’s dark brown strands. “You wouldn’t have to worry about anything,” Jimmy mumbles against his shoulder, moving his fingers slowly and carefully inside Stan, opening him up.

Stan takes a deep breath and lets it out; it doesn’t take all his tension away, but it does make it easier for Jimmy to handle him, his fingers inching deeper until his knuckles are pressed against Stan’s ass, which is when they start curling. When they hit the familiar spot of pleasure, Stan finds himself moaning, grinding back against Jimmy’s fingers. Jimmy kisses him on the shoulder again, mouthing his way to Stan’s neck as he scissors his fingers once, then pulls them out. Stan spreads his legs a little wider while Jimmy unbuttons his jeans and pulls the zipper down, takes his cock out.

Jimmy surprises him again by spitting into his hand, taking a moment to rub his saliva into Stan’s hole. The hole is still more dry than wet when Jimmy drapes himself over Stan and starts to push in, but it opens to Jimmy anyway, taking his length in. Jimmy’s hand has found Stan’s throat, holding onto it lightly as he enters Stan, his lips finding Stan’s cheek. Stan turns his face towards his mouth, catching it with his own, moaning into it when Jimmy’s other hand makes its way between Stan’s legs again and gathers his neglected cock into its warm grasp.

When Jimmy starts moving, he does it slowly; he always does, to his credit, making sure Stan gets used to his cock inside him and is feeling pleasure more than discomfort by the time he starts to speed up, slamming his cock into Stan while his fist slides up and down along Stan’s length. Stan moans, reaching backward to grasp Jimmy from his hair as they keep on kissing, licking the taste of stale booze and cigarettes out of each other’s mouths. Jimmy pulls away after a while, sinking his teeth into the crook of Stan’s neck instead as he thrusts harder, wrapping arm around Stan’s chest.

“You could be mine, Stan,” Jimmy says, sounding weirdly broken. “We could-”

He breaks into a moan at that moment, and doesn’t say a word anymore, simply fucking Stan while kissing along his neck and shoulders. Stan groans, both in pleasure and pain, and reaches down for his cock to entwine his fingers together with Jimmy’s, so they’re both stroking Stan in unison. Stan bites his lip, feeling as heat builds up in the pit of his stomach, as his balls draw tight behind his cock.

Stan comes first, spilling himself into his and Jimmy’s hands, but Jimmy isn’t far behind, moaning low and loud against Stan’s neck as he drives into him for the final time, keeping himself there as his cock releases its load into Stan, twitching. They both collapse on the couch, with Jimmy sliding towards the back of it, off Stan. It’s good; Stan can breathe better this way.

“What do you say, Stan?” Jimmy whispers, gathering Stan’s hair into his hand and pressing his face into it. “Will you stay?”

Stan says nothing, pressing his face against the pillow before him. His answer hasn’t changed, but he can’t quite bring himself to say it.


	35. Good Old Times (Stan/Jimmy Snakes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jimmy's demon takes over when he's being intimate with Stan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con with demonic possession.

Stan looks good. He says he doesn’t, brushing off Jimmy’s attempts to compliment him, but Jimmy thinks Stan is just being hard on himself. Sure, he is round around the belly now and he looks older than his age, but his features are still handsome and his eyes still have that mischievous glint that make Jimmy go weak from the knees. Jimmy can’t take his eyes off his old flame, and he can tell that despite his attempts to appear gruff, Stan is pleased with the attention he’s getting.

“You old googly eyes,” Stan says to Jimmy, and Jimmy has to laugh. He is glad he decided to make this visit after all; everything is going to end for Jimmy very soon, but at least he gets to see Stan for one final time.

See, and do something else.

“You can stay in my room for the night,” Stan whispers to him. “You can get on your hands and knees and I’ll eat your ass out, how does that sound?” he says, making Jimmy’s eyes go wide.

Jimmy ends up lying down on his back instead, in Stan’s bed while Stan is between his legs, swallowing Jimmy’s cock all the way to the bottom of his throat. Jimmy still can’t believe that Stan is so amazing at this, even though he knows what Stan has had to do for living; Stan’s soft, toothless mouth is just heavenly on Jimmy, and he sure can use a taste of heaven before he goes. He has made a deal with a demon, after all; soon, Jimmy will run out of time, and he will have to give up his body to the creature for good. All thanks to an ex who had turned out to be unworthy, but at least he gets to spend one night with someone who was worth everything. Jimmy keeps stroking Stan’s hair, thinking of how much he wants to return the favor he’s being given right now, how he wants to-

His fingers twitch and tighten in Stan’s hair, to the point of drawing an uncomfortable moan out of him. Jimmy goes cold inside, opening his mouth to scream.

_No!_

“Aren’t you lovely?” the demon says with Jimmy’s voice, grasping the back of Stan’s head as it makes Jimmy’s body sit up on the bed, shoving Stan’s face down into his groin.

Jimmy can feel Stan choke against his cock, his nostrils fluttering against Jimmy’s pubes when the demon within Jimmy pushes Jimmy’s hips up, grinding against Stan’s face. Jimmy wants to trash out, shout, strangle the creature that is about to ruin the one last good thing in his life, but he’s helpless; it’s like Jimmy has been restricted to exist in his own eyeballs only, forced to watch as Stan coughs and spits when he’s pulled off Jimmy’s cock, gagging as he tries to catch his breath. The demon grabs Stan from the jaw, making him look at Jimmy’s face, and Jimmy wants so badly to look away from the confusion in Stan’s eyes, the hurt.

_I’m so sorry, Stan._

Stan has barely had enough time to breathe properly when he’s pushed down on Jimmy’s cock again and after that the demon just holds Stan’s head still, thrusting up into his mouth. His pace is fast and brutal, making Stan wince every time Jimmy’s cock is slammed into his throat, even as he tries to keep his throat and mouth relaxed. Jimmy aches inside as he watches tears start to squeeze out of Stan’s eyes, running down to his cheeks as he’s fucked.

Thankfully enough, it doesn’t take Jimmy’s body long to reach its peak, the jerking motion of his hips reaching a seemingly impossible speed as the demon mauls Stan’s mouth, filling it with Jimmy’s semen.

Jimmy’s demon laughs in his brain.

 _Looks like your taste in lovers isn’t so horrible after all_ , it says, and with that Jimmy’s body is his again.

He immediately scrambles backwards from Stan, who in turn lifts his head slowly up, closing his mouth to swallow. There are drops of come in the corners of his mouth that he wipes away with the back of his hand, and before Jimmy can go on with the apologies, Stan is talking:

“Not so rough next time, okay?”

He has just enough time to see Stan look confused before he slaps his hands over his face, and howls into his palms.


	36. Sweet First (Stan/Jimmy Snakes)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first kiss takes them both by surprise.

Their first kiss takes them both by surprise.

In some ways, it’s exactly what Jimmy expected it to be: they’re both drunk, their guards are down, their inhibitions are gone. But it’s Stan who ends up slamming Jimmy against the wall, taking Jimmy’s wrists into his hands and pinning them down on both sides of his head as he slams their mouths together. The kiss is harsh and it kind of hurts, but Jimmy doesn’t care; he pries his mouth open and sucks Stan’s tongue in like he’s starving for it, going pliant beneath the press of Stan’s body as Stan squeezes close to him.

It’s their first kiss and it’s everything Jimmy has dreamed of.

That’s why Jimmy shocks himself when he ends up putting a stop to it, yanking his head away from Stan’s as he gapes for air, heart hammering furiously in his chest. He looks around the motel hallway, listening to its sounds and those coming from the rooms. There is nothing to hear, but it’s dangerous to do this in the public like this; Stan seems to realize this too as he releases Jimmy’s wrists, backing off from him.

“Jimmy,” he says. “I-”

“Wanna to come to my room?”

This is when things could start going down the expected route. Stan will say no, go to his own room, and tomorrow they’ll get back to business like nothing has happened. Like they haven’t been eyeing each other in secret for weeks now, like Jimmy hasn’t been lying in bed thinking of how it would be like to have Stan there next to him, like Stan doesn’t always flush a little bit when Jimmy smiles in a certain way. At least Jimmy is sure that Stan does. Then again his instincts haven’t always been trustworthy about these things.

On the other hand, neither have Stan’s. Maybe he’s thinking of the same things, maybe he’s unsure too, may-

“Okay,” Stan says. “Sounds good.”

Jimmy’s eyes snap up, wide with surprise. “You serious?”

Stan gives him a slight smile. “It could be fun.” He nods towards Jimmy’s room, taking a step towards it. “You still into it?”

They’re both drunk; Jimmy could easily be imagining all of this, dreaming sad, pitiful dreams just outside his room. He digs his pocket for his room key, reaching Stan with few happy strides.


	37. Funeral Encounter (Stan/Fiddleford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiddleford meets Ford's brother at Ford's funeral. Set in the Better World scenario.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Off-screen character death.

Fiddleford doesn’t discover the existence of Stanley Pines until Ford has died.

“Yeah,” Stanley - or Stan, as he likes to be called - says when he arrives in Shermy’s company to Ford’s funeral. “Our relationship, um, wasn’t that great.” He shrugs, not looking anyone in the eye, but when his grandniece grabs his hand to give it a squeeze, he returns it.

Fiddleford is stunned. He already knew that Ford wasn’t close to his family, but he was only aware of the existence of one brother, Shermy; he had no idea there was another one, much less a twin. He can’t stop looking at Stan, the ways he is both similar to and different from Ford, not even after Stan acknowledges his staring with a raised eyebrow. But Stan doesn’t seem to mind, chatting with Shermy, his nephew and niece instead as they follow the funeral proceedings.

Later, Fiddleford manages to convince Stan to have a drink with him.

“I can’t believe Ford never told me about you,” he blurts to Stan when they sit down together, blushing immediately over his words. Stan doesn’t seem to mind though, taking a sip from his drink.

“Our relationship was- complex.” Stan seems to deem his drink tasteful, taking another sip immediately afterward. “It would have been hard for him to explain us. It was probably easier for him to never say anything at all.”

Stan doesn’t even sound upset, which makes Fiddleford ache inside. He can’t imagine being estranged from his own siblings like that, not even being able to address their existence. All Ford needed to say that he had one more brother; that’s all Fiddleford needed to know. That even this was something too painful to share is something that boggles Fiddleford’s mind, and it has to show on his face because suddenly Stan looks sympathetic.

“Hey, I’ve made peace with that and I’m sure Ford did too. This is how life goes sometimes.” Stan scratches at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “And hey, you two achieved a lot together, didn’t you? That’s great! The best case scenario, really.”

“Not for you,” Fiddleford says.

Stan’s hand freezes, and the lop-sided smile he’s been wearing disappears.

“Hey, don’t make assumptions! Okay, so things didn’t work out or me and Ford, that was too bad. But I’ve been doing great without him. I’ve got Shermy, his kids and his grandkids, that’s enough for me.” Stan takes a long gulp from his glass, almost emptying it. “I don’t need your pity.”

Fiddleford grips at his own glass, feeling embarrassed. It’s true; as horrible as he feels about Stan and Ford’s relationship, he can’t assume that Stan’s life has been bad. He is healthy, he has a relationship with his other brother and family, and as painful as his relationship with Ford must have been, that chapter in his life is closed for good now. Fiddleford is being condescending.

But-

“I just think it’s a pity,” he says. “That you two never got a chance to make things right. It’s a darn shame.”

Stan blinks at him, looking a little stunned by his words. His smile starts to return, soft and thankful.

“Yeah,” he says. “It is.”

They lapse into a silence, Stan continuing to sip his drink while Fiddleford can’t make himself down his, running his fingertips along the smooth glass in his hands instead. He wants to say something, or rather, do something; something that will make this unbearably wrong situation somehow better.

“We could try to contact his ghost.”

Stan gurgles, spitting a mouthful of alcohol back into the glass. “What?”

“We could try to contact his ghost!” Fiddleford can feel himself fill with energy, a grin rising onto his lips. “He died of a heart attack! It was sudden, he could still be around. You two could still talk!”

Stan stares at him, eyes saucer-wide. “What the hell have you two been up to?”

“It can be done! We did some research about it together!” After Ford had lost his original research, but that’s a minor detail. “I reckon it’s worth a shot!”

“You’re serious about this,” Stan says, voice awed.

“I am! What do you say, do you want to give it a try?”

Stan looks very unsure, and even as his mind refuses to give up on its enthusiasm, the rational part of Fiddleford starts to prepare itself for a no. But then Stan nods, still obviously hesitant, but firm.

“Why not?” He points his finger at Fiddleford, turning stern again. “But if this backfires,  _you’re_  paying for my therapy.”

Fiddleford laughs. “I guess that’s fair! It will be all right, Stan, this time it will!”

It’s too big a promise to make, but he’ll realize that only later. But for now he fully means what he says, and for now, Stan believes him.


	38. Perils of Assertiveness (Bill/Fiddleford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiddleford suffers at Bill's hands, who is possessing Ford.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW, non-con.

Fiddleford hadn’t even made it out of the basement.

He should have known that one more thing had gone hopelessly wrong when Ford had suddenly gone quiet behind him in mid-rant, but Fiddleford had kept on walking, determined to leave the house, portal and Ford behind for good. He had never expected Ford to close the distance between them so fast, slam into him with such force. In a way, it hadn’t been surprising to find out that it hadn’t really been Ford who had done that.

“You just have to ruin everything, don’t you?” The golden eyes, with pupils slit like wounds, are so wrong on Ford’s face, as is that mocking smile. Ford - or whatever happens to be wearing Ford’s face now - is busy tying Fiddleford’s wrists to the bedpost with rope, having bound Fiddleford’s legs to the corners of the bed already. Fiddleford isn’t fighting, knowing he doesn’t stand a chance against this thing, but he still turns his face away when it tries to caress his face. It laughs, patting him on the cheek anyway.

“Yep, it’s time to put you into your place.”

It climbs on the bed, whistling to itself as it straddles Fiddleford’s chest and starts to undo Ford’s belt. Fiddleford can see that it’s hard already, its groin visibly swollen in Ford’s pants; the sight makes Fiddleford shudder and he has to look away, blinking against the tears that are threatening to rise into his eyes. Hasn’t he humiliated himself enough before this creature?

“Aww, someone is sad.”

It’s laughing again, but its amusement isn’t enough to drown out the sound of Ford’s zipper being pushed down. Fiddleford wants to wince, but he still has some pride left; he swallows the sound, turning his face upward again to see what’s happening before him. He is in no way prepared for the sight of Ford’s stiff, naked cock peeking out from the grip of a six-fingered hand, but he makes himself look at it, address its existence. After all, it will be forced on him soon.

Still, when the thing possessing Ford grabs Fiddleford from his hair, Fiddleford hears himself say: “You put that thing in my mouth and I’ll bite it off.”

Ford’s bushy eyebrows bounce upward as the yellow eyes fill with surprise. Fiddleford gets to feel victorious for one moment before the thing inside Ford throws its head back and laughs, long and hard. Fiddleford’s brain barely manages to register Ford’s hand rising before it’s already coming down onto Fiddleford’s face in a swift, vicious backhand.

“Oh, does that hurt?” The thing chuckles, brushing the tips of six, familiar fingers along Fiddleford’s stinging cheek. “Well, then you will know not to speak up again.”

The fingers trail down to Fiddleford’s jaw, clasp it hard.

Fiddleford doesn’t resist when his mouth is pulled open, knowing that he has lost. He should have never expected anything more from trying to stand up for himself in any case.


	39. A Tale of Something (Soos & Stan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan has four gifts to Soos on Soos's wedding day.

“Okay!” Stan and Soos are in a private room, which makes the volume of Stan’s voice perhaps a tad unnecessary, but Stan decides to not feel bad about it when he sees Soos’s eyes light up. He continues: “I’ve been preparing for this my whole soap opera watching life. Four somethings, Soos. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready, Mr. Pines!”

“Great!” Reaching into his bag, Stan pulls the first gift out. “Remember this, Soos?”

Soos thinks he’s got Stan fooled with his wide eyes and surprised gasp, but he doesn’t; if he had worked more on the way he took the red screwdriver out of Stan’s hands and held it up in the air, examining it from different angles, Stan might have been convinced. “It’s the screwdriver I’ve always used at work! This is ‘something old’, right?”

“Yes, but you got everything else wrong.” Before the surprise in Soos’s eyes gets a chance to turn into embarrassment, Stan adds: “It’s something  _I_  always used, Soos, but I might not have done so if it wasn’t for you. Remember how we first met?”

Now Soos’s face fills with understanding. “It’s the screwdriver I returned to you!”

“Which I really needed back then, but now it’s yours,” Stan agrees. “I’m sure you’ll find use for it.”

“I will!” Grinning, Soos pockets the screwdriver. “Something new, next?”

“I think so.” Stan reaches inside his bag again. “Look! It’s the Pines family unit as a figurine set!”

“It is!” Soos’s voice is quiet as he says that, which means Stan has to reassure him and quick. He does so.

“There’s an empty space in that set so that Mystery Shack visitors can place themselves into it! Guess who’s standing there in my version?”

Damn it, he hates how it takes a moment for Soos to realize who’s supposed to be there. Apparently Filbrick’s tough love bullshit is more ingrained into Stan than he thought. He needs to fix this. “Me!” Soos says finally, joy returning to his eyes.

“That’s right! Now, I think we got 'something borrowed’ covered,” Stan says, pointing at Soos’s head.

“We sure do!” Soos does a little spin in his Mr. Mystery get-up and tips Stan’s fez at him, making him laugh. “Thank you so much for borrowing this, Mr. Pines.”

“Don’t mention it!” Stan will never admit it aloud, but Soos might even look a little better in the fez than Stan himself does. “Now, Soos, what do we have left?”

“Something blue!”

“Exactly! Now, what’s the first thing that comes to your mind about the name 'Stanley’?”

An uncomfortable silence stretches between them. “You?” Soos offers, immediately revealing that Stan was, in fact, not the first thing to pop into his mind.

“Aside from that, Soos.” When Soos continues to look confused, Stan says: “Isn’t the color blue something you’ve always associated with my name?”

“No.”

Oh well, that was a long shot anyway. “Okay, I’m just messing with you. The thing is, Soos, I don’t want to give you something blue.” He steps forward to grab Soos by his shoulders, holding him firm as Soos’s eyes widen. “I want to give you the gift of my name.”

Stan knows he has expressed himself wrong the moment the words are out, but Soos gives him a confirmation anyway: “But I like the name 'Soos’.”

“I know, and that’s not what I meant. What I mean is-” Stan takes a quick inhale, steadying his hold on Soos’s shoulders, “From now on, I want you to call me by my first name. You know, constantly. Always.”

Soos’s eyes begin to shimmer. “Mr. Pines-”

“Stanley. Stan.” Stan shrugs. “Whichever you like, Soos.”

“Mr. Pines, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Stan might be a good start. Try that?”

Soos shakes his head, probably to clear his head because his eyes are brighter than before when he meets Stan’s gaze again with a smile. “Stan.”

“There you go.” Before old instincts make him back off, Stan closes the distance between them and hugs Soos tight. “Happy wedding day, Soos.”

“Thanks, Stan.” As if by command, Soos breaks into trembles in their embrace. “Oh my gosh, Stan, I’m getting married.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty big.” Pulling away, Stan gives Soos’s shoulder one more firm squeeze. They smile to each other.  "Come on, let’s get going.“


	40. Settlement (Fiddleford, OFC)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FIddleford calls his wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Domestic dispute.

“Fiddleford,” Mae says on the phone, voice choked with tears. “You need to stop this.”

Fiddleford hates hearing his wife like that. He knows he swore to never be like this, to never- but he’s just so damn desperate. He doesn’t want to lose her.

“Just tell me what I have to do,” he pleads. “Just tell me what I need to and I’ll do it. It can be anything, please just-”

Mae hangs up on him.

For a moment, all he can feel is devastation. Then the rage comes, strong and crackling as a storm, frightening him with its force; he screams, trying to get it all out, but it simmers and boils within him, seemingly eternal. Just like the countless nightmares Gravity Falls has brought upon him. It never ends.

Well, not for him. But it can end for Mae.

He takes the memory gun.


	41. Untitled #4 (Fiddleford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiddleford's memories return.

When Fiddleford’s memory, his whole life, starts returning to him, he expects to become overwhelmed very fast.

Instead, the opposite happens: the more he remembers, the less noise there seems to be in his head, clarity and order taking over from chaos. He feels like a clean sheet of paper, full of potential.

Fiddleford tries to caution himself, remind himself it’s only a matter of time until the emotional fallout of his memories being back hits him, but he doesn’t want to listen. Right now, he feels like he’s been driftwood in his own life, being nothing and belonging nowhere. He wants to feel like he’s something again.


	42. Untitled #5 (Soos & Stan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Stan’s employees before Soos gave him crap about taking naps.

All Stan’s employees before Soos gave him crap about taking naps.

“Showing your age, old man?” In retrospect, he’s surprised he tolerated any of them as long as he did (though he guesses some of them actually did do their jobs well), because Soos’s attitude is just so different.

“Have a nice nap, Mr. Pines!” Soos wishes him.

“I brought you a blanket, Mr. Pines,” Soos tells him when he wakes up and wonders why he’s covered with fabric.

“Sweet dreams, Mr. Pines!”

Eventually, Stan has to warn Soos against letting him get away with too much - after all, there is money that needs to be made - but having someone be so encouraging of his sleep time is just nice. It makes him feel like someone cares.


	43. Untitled #6 (Manly Dan/Stan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan has always felt a little awkward around Manly Dan.

Stan has always felt a little awkward around Manly Dan.

“My old man is harmless,” Dan’s kid tells him, taking note of his hesitation. “He just talks loud and moves fast, but he’s not gonna eat you.”

Stan nods quietly. The thing is, he knows that about Dan; Dan makes him nervous for entirely other reasons.

Indeed, when Stan goes to the Corduroy house, Dan is sunbathing on his backyard, wearing the tiniest possible swimming trunks as if to make sure Stan feels as weird as possible. Dan is clueless about it of course, shamelessly scratching his ass right in front of Stan before turning over from his stomach to his back.

“What do you want?” Dan asks, stretching so that every muscle in his body tenses for a moment. Stan swallows, then prepares to tell Dan about his daughter’s new employment.


	44. The Last Hurrah (Stan, Ford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan gets diagnosed with terminal illness during his early days in Gravity Falls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: AU, character death.

After Stan gets diagnosed with death, he throws all the caution in the air.

He stops trying to track the other journals down, stops trying to interpret and internalize Ford’s material about his machine. He depends on dumb luck only, trying out different configurations of the machine settings until he gets one step forward: the machine lights up again. His joy is short-lived once he realizes that the machine being on doesn’t mean it knows where to find Ford, how to get him back into their world.

When he starts to dwell into Ford’s notes again, the plague inside him is accelerating in speed. It turns his brain into mush, saps him of his strength and energy, eats him alive; he’s equally unequipped to deal with the disease as he is with other dimensions and lost brothers. It doesn’t stop him from trying, struggling to try. 

It does stop him from extending his hand out to a floating yellow triangle that keeps entering his dreams night after night.

“All you have to do is say yes, and I will make things right for you both,” it tells him, somehow managing to convey benevolence through its featureless face. Stan thinks of how its shape is all over Ford’s house, how its eye watches him from everywhere, and he just has to say no. He has been bad at listening to the screaming of his guts before, but it’s better to start now than never.

Somehow, five years after Ford first got sucked into the portal, Stan manages to pull off a miracle. Ford is furious about it.

“You goddamn idiot, didn’t you read my warnings?”

Stan is close to the end, but he manages to duck Ford’s punch, and the ones that follow; he’s not going to let his body to doom Ford when his stupidity had failed to do so. He keeps backing off until Ford stops lunging for him, smiling inside when Ford fails to take any notice of his appearance and just keeps ranting at him. Ford looks kind of rough and worn himself, and life in some inhuman place can’t have been easy for him; Stan is glad Ford hasn’t lost the things that make him what he is, even the annoying parts.

“I had so much important work to do there! And now you left me another mess to fix.” Ford frowns at him before turning around to the portal, setting his hands on his hips. “Stan, go upstairs. I need to take this apart this instant.”

It’s not an order to leave the house entirely, and Stan shouldn’t; he should explain to Ford why there are signs in his home that it used to be a tourist attraction, why it’s not one anymore. Why Stan worked so hard to avoid his strikes, why Stan isn’t complaining as he leaves the basement.

Stan leaves the house, leaves Ford. He goes to the Stanmobile and gets in, starts the car.

He has no idea where he is going, how far he’ll even get; he honestly can’t remember the last time he filled the tank and now that he thinks of it, he didn’t take any of his own stuff with him. All he knows is that the end can’t be far now, and he doesn’t want to be near Ford when it happens.

Life may have beaten him, but at least he was able to give it one punch back. All things considered, it’s a good note to end things on.


	45. Release From Reality (Stan/OMC)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before he leaves Glass Shard Beach, Stan visits his regular club for the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW.

The night before Stan leaves Glass Shard Beach, he visits Messy Peach for the last time.

Messy Peach is one of the seedier clubs of the town, the kind one visits at their own risk. On the surface, it’s not immediately clear why it has such a reputation: it looks like an ordinary bar, filled to the rim with cigarette smoke and the sound of clinging glasses. It all changes once you go to the lavatory.

There, in one of the stalls, waits a hole in the wall, and behind the wall- well, as long as you stay put in your own stall, you never know. That’s how Stan prefers things; he doesn’t want his companions of the night to have any names, any faces. Tonight he feels that way especially much, making doubly sure that the door is locked before he pushes the lid of the toilet bowl down and sits down to wait, hoping the stall next door is going to be busy tonight. He needs all the distraction that he can get.

“Hello?”

The voice coming from the other side of the wall is quiet, but it makes Stan jump anyway; usually he starts relaxing the moment he gets into this stall, but tonight he’s all nerves and emotion. Trying not to think about why, Stan stands up from the toilet bowl and walks over to the wall, patting it impatiently. There is silence on the other side for a while, then a sound of shuffling cloth and a zipper coming down; Stan crouches down to the floor, leans close to the hole in the wall.

A plump dick slips through the hole, already half-hard; Stan doesn’t waste time, gathering the stranger’s cock into his hand. It’s warm and silky to the touch, firming against his palm as Stan curls his fingers around it, leaving the head to peek outside from his fist. He brings his mouth close to the head, parting his lips in order to just breathe on it wetly, moving his fingertips slowly along the shaft. The guy on the other side lets out a strangled moan, his nails scratching against the wall.

Pleased with that reaction, Stan takes the head into his mouth, pressing his tongue against the slit on the tip as he starts to suck on it. He strokes the guy’s shaft, keeping his pace slow and teasing; he can see how tightly the guy is pressing up against the hole, his balls squeezing through it as well. Stan reaches up to cup them, fondling them gently as he takes the guy’s cock deeper into his mouth, licking wet stripes along the shaft.

“Th-that’s good,” the guy whispers, and he’s right; Stan is getting hard too, his cock straining against his underwear and pants. Stan lets it, continuing to stroke and grope the stranger as he sucks his cock, bopping his head along the length of it. The cock in his mouth throbs hotly, going wet from the tip with pre-come; Stan lets himself taste it, stroking his tongue over the head in order to catch every drop. The guy bucks on the other side of the wall, his cock bouncing slightly inside Stan’s mouth, his balls twitching.

“Hold on,” Stan mumbles, mouth full of dick; the guy stops moving, trembling slightly as Stan withdraws from his cock and latches his mouth on the guy’s sac instead, sucking on the soft skin while he strokes the guy’s shaft, spreading the pre-come around on the head of the cock with his thumb. The pulse of Stan’s own cock is starting to distract him, filling his ears, but he focuses on the other guy, yanking on his cock and mouthing his balls as the guy starts to moan out loud in his stall, his whole groin twitching in the confines of the hole.

“Okay, now.” As the guy starts thrusting into the hole and Stan’s fist, Stan finally lets his hand go between his own legs, feeling himself through his pants. He feels the guy’s cock twitch in his hand as the guy comes, shooting long strands of come that land partly on Stan, soaking into the shoulder and back of his white t-shirt while the rest of it goes on the floor. The guy groans, falling against the stall wall; Stan keeps groping himself through his pants until he reaches his own peak, biting his lip to keep all the noise in. He’s not entirely successful, a low whine escaping his throat as his hand goes still.

As Stan recovers on the stall floor, the other guy pulls himself out of the hole, dressing himself up on the other side. He leaves without another word, which is fine by Stan; he doesn’t want to chat or interact when he comes here, after all. In fact he’s not sure if he ever wants to do either thing outside this stall, either.

_So much for forgetting everything, huh?_

Yet when he hears the stall door open on the other side again, all he does is get up on his knees, leaning close to the hole again. If he’s still thinking about bad things, then he’s just not trying hard enough.


	46. Untitled #7 (Gideon/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon writes Dipper a letter.

“Dear Dipper,” Gideon writes. He stops.

“My good man Dipper,” he writes, and that’s better.

“I hope you are well,” he writes; he pauses for a long time. “Gravity Falls is still weird, but I’m sure that’s no surprise to you. I have started to write down my own observations about it. Maybe we should compare notes some day?”

It’s hard to try to write a letter to someone you desperately want to be friends with but who may not want to be friends with you; there are so many things he has to resist writing down.

“I crave for some intelligent company, please return soon,” is one such thing.


	47. When You Run Out Of Gas And Need To Make Money (Stan/OMCs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan has been tied up to a bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, prostitute!Stan, non-con, bondage.

“Don’t worry, I’m only recording this for my private collection.”

Stan doesn’t like hearing things like that when he’s been handcuffed to the bed post. He puts on a smile, though, spreading his legs in an invitation when his trade of the night climbs up on the bed.

When the guy is busy burying his face between Stan’s thighs, Stan can’t help but eye the camera that stands few feet away from the end of the bed. He tries not to look straight into it though, and tilts his head to the side so his hair falls onto his face. The less recognizable he is, the better. He doesn’t believe in private collections.

His instincts are proven right when they meet up again next week, with the guys friends entering the room the moment Stan has been tied up on the bed.

“They loved your video,” the guy says as Stan starts to struggle in his bonds, setting up the camera again. The other men surround Stan, sitting on the edges of the bed to grab Stan from his pecs, belly, thighs. “They wanted to be in the sequel.”

This time the camera is brought straight into his face when they fuck him, catching every pained groan and flash of light reflecting off his wet, gleaming eyes, every drop of come that lands on his cheeks and lips. It’s bad enough, but somehow it’s more humiliating when they keep his legs and ass cheeks splayed wide open and take the camera there, making sure to catch the sight of semen dribbling out of Stan’s helpless, clenching hole, soaking into the mattress.

He gets paid both times, at least.

“Hope you come back for reruns,” his customer tells him as Stan dresses up, and it takes all Stan’s self-control to not whirl around and beat the asshole to death.

As he leaves the town with a full tank that night, he hopes this trip to Gravity Falls will be worth it.


	48. Looks Easy Enough (Stan/OMC)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Stan sees prostitutes working at the dock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con, underage.

Ma and Pa have warned Stan and Ford to stay away from certain kinds of women at the docks, so of course the first chance he gets, Stan goes to talk to them.

“You should go home, kid,” they tell him, in more or less friendly manner. He opts to watch them from far, then, observing as they walk up to men and strike chats with them, sometimes with same ones, sometimes with different ones. One woman eventually notices what he’s doing, deciding it’s time for an educational heart to heart.

“So that’s what we do,” she says at the end, when Stan has gone all wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “That’s how life goes sometimes,” she adds, mistaking his shock for devastation.

He doesn’t try to approach the women at the dock after that, but it’s not out of disgust or pity. Now that he has discovered a new way to make money, he needs to try it out.

Stan gets his first opportunity a little too soon.

“Suck on this and I won’t turn you over to the cops,” an old sleaze tells him after catching Stan trying to lift his wallet, giving Stan a chance to try out what being a prostitute is really like.

It’s- salty and sour, having someone’s piece of meat in your mouth. The guy doesn’t let Stan to have any control about how much of it he has between his lips either, shoving his face back down into his pubes whenever Stan tries to pull away and thrusting forward with his hips whenever Stan tries to catch his breath. It’s awful. How does anyone have guts for this?

“I don’t care whether you like it or not. Just take it.” The sleazebag pushes into the back of Stan’s throat, making his gag reflex go wild.

After he is left kneeling on the sidewalk, swallowing come and wiping sweat and musk off his lips, he swears he’s never going to do this again. He has no idea how soon he will be breaking that promise.


	49. Supercouple (Gideon/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I worship you,” Gideon whispers.

“I worship you,” Gideon whispers.

“What?”

“I ship me and you,” Gideon corrects, smiling as Dipper raises an eyebrow at him. “You know, when there’s a beloved couple on a television show, fans like to say-”

“I know what it means. Mabel- has ships.” Dipper crunches his nose a little at this use of the word, which is so adorable Gideon could die. “You think we’re like a TV couple?” Dipper asks him.

“In the sense that we belong together, yes! I mean,” Gideon stammers, realizing he’s coming on too hard again. “We would be a ratings magnet,” he says, weakly.

Dipper snorts. “You’re so weird.” But he’s smiling.

Gideon still finds it hard to believe that he’s able to make Dipper smile like this, when there used to be so much bad blood between them. That Dipper has been able to forgive him, let him into his life- it’s wonderful, it’s humbling, it makes Gideon hellishly insecure. It makes him think that any day now, Dipper is going to realize he’s made a mistake.

That’s why Gideon needs to be absolutely perfect around him. This time he’s not going to let a good thing get away.

“You would know,” he says, hoping Dipper actually doesn’t.


	50. Lucky Ones (Gideon/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s been years since the Weirdmageddon and Dipper still isn’t better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Slightly NSFW, older Gideon and Dipper.

It’s been years since the Weirdmageddon and Dipper still isn’t better.

Mabel is coping at least and Dipper is happy for that. Dipper himself, on the other hand, is a complete mess; he gets panic attacks over triangles, he dreams of being eaten by monsters, having to make deals or contracts of any kind gives him anxiety. It all gets worse with age instead of better, and it’s hard to get a therapist to understand you when they have no idea what an apocalypse is like. He has no idea how to fix any of it and it sucks.

Which brings him to Gideon.

Gideon is all right, that much he knows; Dipper sees him on TV all the time these days, talking about a redemption of the child criminal and how it took the end of the world (metaphorical, as far as the public knows) to make him see how he really wants to live his life. Nothing Gideon says is exactly false, and he’s not throwing anyone under the bus to make himself look good; he even has nice things to say about the people of Gravity Falls, including Stan. In theory Dipper doesn’t have that much reason to mind him. But he does.

He wishes he had Gideon’s ability to just brush off the past like it’s nothing.

Sometimes he wishes he was Gideon, period.

Sometimes, he wants to go lurk in Gideon’s dressing room, wait for him to come back from doing an interview or a performance or whatever else he’s doing. Sometimes, he wants to grab Gideon by the labels of his blue - always the same baby blue, as if he hasn’t grown or changed at all - jacket and throw him to the wall, suck all that cheerful energy out of him through a kiss. Even in his imagination, he can hear Gideon laugh at him for trying, feel his weight drag them both down to the floor when Gideon wraps his legs around Dipper’s waist.

Sometimes, Dipper wants to be okay. Sometimes, he just doesn’t want to be alone in the dark.


	51. Letters of Note (Gideon/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper keeps the letters that Gideon sends him from prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Creepiness.

Dipper keeps the letters that Gideon sends him from prison.

In the beginning, he tells himself it’s because of Bill and the journals, because Gideon obviously knows stuff about both and may have left some unintentional clues about them in his letters. In time, that turns out not to be the case; in his letters, Gideon reminisces about his and Dipper’s moments together, shares his poetry about the supernatural, talks about his life in prison. He writes about nothing useful.

There is no reason for Dipper not to toss the letters straight into the trashcan like Mabel and Stan do with theirs. But he doesn’t.

He tells himself it’s because he feels sorry for Gideon, first, but that just isn’t true. As far as he’s considered, Gideon got what was coming from him and it doesn’t seem like Gideon regrets anything he did anyway, so Dipper has no sympathy for him. Instead, he has to confront the uncomfortable reality that he is kind of fascinated with Gideon.

The thing is, if you don’t count Grunkle Stan, Gideon is the first true criminal Dipper has ever met. True crime doesn’t interest him as much as the paranormal does, but it does interest him; he’s curious about how Gideon came to be what he is. Was it something in his past? Was it his dealings with the supernatural? Dipper will never admit it to anyone, but he kind of wants to visit Gideon’s mind.

He knows there’s no good - in moral way, anyway - way to make that happen, so letters will have to do. Gideon will remain his morbid interest.


	52. Treat (Bill/Gideon/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill gives Gideon a treat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con, older Gideon and Mabel, breathplay.

“Wanna see what I’ve been working on?” Bill asks him, offering Gideon his hand.

Gideon doesn’t, but he also doesn’t have a choice; he takes Bill’s hand, and follows when Bill starts leading him down the corridors of the Fearamid. The noise of the throne room bothered Gideon before; now he finds himself missing it as he and Bill get further and further away from it, the silence around them growing thick. Soon all Gideon can hear anymore is his own nervous breathing, as well as the hum that Bill always emits.

“Here we are!” With a wave of his hand, Bill makes a door appear on the wall, which then opens. Gideon has just enough time to swallow heavily before he follows Bill inside.

He gasps when he sees Mabel there, lying on a pristine white bed. She looks angelic, as she always does; in fact now that she’s asleep, she looks even cuter than usual, because the frown she usually wears around him is finally gone for once. But as happy as Gideon is to see her, he doesn’t get too excited. Bill is still by his side, after all.

“What’s this, Bill?” he asks, turning to look at Bill.

He has just enough time to see Bill’s eye curve at him before Bill turns into stone.

Gideon yelps when the weight of Bill’s body yanks his arm down, and he has to take a moment to free himself from Bill’s stony grip. When he turns to Mabel again, he freezes when he realizes that Mabel has sat up, expecting to be shouted at. But he soon realizes that something is off; in fact he realizes that the moment Mabel smiles to him, wide and toothy, yet somehow sharper than usual. He swallows hard, several times, not daring to meet her eyes. He already knows what he’ll see there.

“What’s the matter, Gideon?” Bill asks with Mabel’s voice, somehow managing to sound just as sweet as she does. “Aren’t you glad to see your girl?”

For a moment, Gideon considers fleeing. But as much as he wants to do that, he can’t actually do it, not to Mabel. He stands still instead, finally meeting Bill’s bright yellow eyes. “This wasn’t the reunion I was hoping for,” he says, shocking himself with his own articulation.

“Heh, I guess so.” Bill stretches back down on the bed, patting it. “Why don’t you come here and make it your kind of reunion?”

If Gideon wasn’t a coward, he would refuse.

He obediently walks over to the bed.

“That’s a good boy.” Bill chuckles, which sounds weird in Mabel’s voice; a low sound like that is unusual from Bill and Mabel both, but in Mabel’s voice it’s even more unsettling. Still, when Bill extends his hand and grabs Gideon by the wrist, tugging him closer, Gideon doesn’t fight back.

When Bill keeps pulling at him, however, until he’s hovering over Mabel on his hands and knees, Gideon starts hesitating. He never wanted it to be like this between him and Mabel; they were supposed to be in this together, in their relationship, she was supposed to want him as much as he wanted her. But he knows, no amount of denial can’t keep him from knowing that it’s Bill who wants this, who’s trying to pull him fully on top of Mabel as Gideon keeps resisting. If Mabel is aware of this at all, she must be terrified.

Gideon doesn’t want her to be terrified, not of him. But-

“Gideon, you’re rebelling,” Bill says, his voice still sweet. That’s the sign that he’s starting to get displeased.

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Gideon says in return, avoiding Bill’s hand when Bill tries to grab him from the crotch.

“Would you rather be hurt instead?” Bill asks him, voice getting harder. Part of Gideon is desperately telling him to give in, that Mabel is not going to be hurt by something she isn’t even aware of, that it’s just him and Bill. Gideon can handle just him and Bill. He can.

Shaking his head, Gideon tries to pull away. Bill’s response is immediate: he wraps his legs around Gideon’s and grabs him from both wrists, then rolls them over. He’s sitting in Gideon’s lap before Gideon has a chance to even think about fighting back, grinding their hips together. That’s what gets Gideon to struggle, to try to heave Bill off him, but both Bill and Mabel are stronger than him, and in one body they make an impossible opponent.

“I was so ready to give you a treat,” Bill grumbles, moving both of Gideon’s wrists in one hand as he pins them above Gideon’s head. He uses his free hand to tug Mabel’s skirt up, revealing she’s wearing no underwear; Gideon squeaks at the sight and looks away, face burning hot. He feels as Bill rubs Mabel’s naked groin against his clothed one, his eyes stinging with shame when he realizes that he’s hard, may have been for a while now.

“I guess I just have to treat myself now,” Bill continues, grabbing Gideon by the throat.

Bill starts to squeeze. Gideon gags, bucking against Bill in another attempt to throw him off, but Bill merely goes along with his movements, taking care their hips remain in tight contact thorough it all. Bill keeps sliding Mabel’s groin over the tent in Gideon’s slacks, making the fabric damp; Mabel is wet, her clit throbbing softly against Gideon’s restrained erection as Bill thrusts against it. Gideon stops struggling, hoping that the fingers around his throat will soon squeeze all arousal out of him. But when the world before his eyes starts flashing with lack of air, he is devastated to realize he’s harder than ever.

As Gideon feels Bill release his wrists, taking his other hand to Gideon’s throat as well, Gideon has just enough energy to grab Bill by the wrists, to try to pull him off. It’s useless; he doesn’t have the strength and Bill and Mabel are too strong for him anyway, and he can barely concentrate as everything about him seems to have drained down into his groin, to his jerking dick, to the warmth and wetness of Mabel and Bill he can sense through the layers of fabric. He chokes, a broken whimper escaping from him. He comes.

The hands around his neck loosen.

“That was fun!” Gideon doesn’t know when he closed his eyes, but the sound of Bill’s  _own_  voice coming from the doorway tears them open. His stomach feels as heavy as the stone Bill’s body was made of just moments earlier as he looks up into Mabel’s horrified eyes, sees her cover her mouth with her hands.

“Too bad neither of you wanted to join in! Well, enjoy the aftermath instead!” With that, Bill disappears into blue fire, leaving Mabel and Gideon to stare at each other in wordless dread.


	53. Let Me Love You (Gideon/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon and Mabel go for a walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Creepy, forced relationship, Bill Wins AU.

They meet in front of the Gravity Falls library.

“Mabel, my love!” Gideon gives her his most charming smile, offering his arm to her. “Shall we go for a walk?”

Mabel smiles and nods, hooking her arm with Gideon’s. She’s wearing a short, brilliant blue dress that leaves her shoulders bare, though her brown hair is loose and down. She looks so pretty that Gideon can barely bear to look at her, and he tries to swallow the tightness in his throat away before saying: “Okay, let’s go!”

They take off to the streets of Gravity Falls. Well, “Gravity Falls”- they are inside a bubble created by Bill, inhabited by people created by Bill. Here, everyone likes Gideon again and is invested in the relationship between him and Mabel and best of all, there are no pesky members of the Pines family around.

It keeps surprising him that Mabel doesn’t seem to mind that; she seems to be content to have her pet pig around, as well as the two guys who seem to have walked out of some Scooby Doo knock-off, though Gideon never lets her hang around too long with the latter. But he doesn’t get between a girl and her pet; he is a gentleman after all.

“Isn’t it a lovely day?” he asks, though it’s always a lovely day, and Mabel always just nods. She doesn’t really speak much these days, no matter how much Gideon tries to draw her into a conversation; he stopped doing that altogether when it started making him angry, and he doesn’t want to be angry around her. Now that she is smiling around him, he doesn’t want her to lose that smile. It’s worth her silence.

“Hey, it’s our favorite place,” he says when they reach the town’s fanciest restaurant, the one they visited during one of their first dates. He frowns when Mabel doesn’t react, but not wanting to ruin their day, he says nothing. They go inside.

“Tell me what you want,” he asks her, ordering her everything that she points out from the menu. She doesn’t want desert.

“I like the music here,” he tells her, as the fake Sheriff Blubbs and Deputy Durland take over the dance floor, swirling each other around to the cheerful clapping of everyone present. Gideon doesn’t ask Mabel to dance.

“Take this,” he says when they’re leaving, taking off his pale blue jacket and helping her to get it on as they prepare to leave.

It’s already dark outside, even though it’s still early and they must have been out for few hours at best; that means something has really, really upset Bill outside the bubble, and that makes Gideon’s skin crawl. All of this depends on Bill, his and Mabel’s happiness, if Bill is lost then that will be lost too. Even if Mabel doesn’t love him yet. Even if she never may.

He knows there would be a solution for that, if he really wanted to use one.

“Why not make it happen right away?” Bill had asked him when Gideon had told him what he wanted. “I could do it so easily! All I need to do is to turn on a switch in her head and bam! She’s all over you. How about I go for it?”

“But I want her to do it on her own!” Gideon had whined. “I’m sure she will, one day!”

“I wouldn’t count on that.” Bill had laughed when Gideon had huffed in anger before resting both of his hands on Gideon’s shoulders, holding him tight. “Okay, kid, let’s try your way. She won’t hate you, you’ll have a date every day and it’s summer forever. Let true love blossom!”

Gideon had been so sure she would eventually see the light. Now, he’s starting to wonder whether to take Bill’s offer on after all.

Then again-

“Gideon?”

Mabel’s voice is gentle, but Gideon jumps a little at it anyway. He looks around, realizing that they have reached the doorstep of Mabel’s new home, a mansion fancier than what Pacifica Northwest could ever hope for. He doesn’t know what it’s like inside there; she has never invited him in.

“Thank you for this evening,” Mabel says, smiling to Gideon as she strokes his arm. That makes Gideon realize that he’s squeezing her arm against his side; he loosens his hold, watching as she pulls her arm free. “I think you should head home now.”

He watches her step away from him.

“Or,” he says, “I could come inside with you. Can I?”

He watches her freeze to her spot.

“Sure,” she says, her smile still on her face as she stretches her hand out to him again.

Then again, it’s not that she’s able to tell him no anymore.


	54. Dearly Beloved (Bill/Mabel/Dipper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and Mabel are Bill's new playthings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con, Bill Wins AU, older Mabel and Dipper.

It’s hard to amaze Bill, but credit where credit is due, the Pines twins are managing to do so very well. They have been prisoners for years and know how things work in the Fearamid; still, they dare to ask for things like private showers and ways for Mabel to stifle her bleeding once a month. It’s stupid persistence, but Bill can’t help but admire it. He loves inane things.

This time, when they had entered Bill’s throne room with their pleas, Bill had sent the Henchmaniacs away, trying not to laugh at the way Mabel’s eyes had filled with false hope while Dipper had become tense with suspicion. That’s something that hasn’t changed either; Mabel is still the ridiculous optimist while Dipper is always ready for the worst case scenario. It delights Bill and to reward his little pets, he snaps his fingers, and Mabel is transported straight into Bill’s lap.

“Ack!”

“Mabel!”

“Full of grace, both of you.” Bill laughs, grasping Mabel firmly from her waist as he yanks her close. “So, you’re becoming a woman now, are you? Let’s check how far along you are!”

He slips the hands on her waist beneath her sweater, sliding them up her narrow back before they catch onto the band of her bra. Mabel freezes in his lap, clasping Bill’s arms tight with frightened fingers; down below, Dipper starts screaming.

“Get your hands off her, you monster!”

“Dipper, it’s okay!” It’s obviously not, especially when Bill starts to pull the hooks of the bra open, but Mabel looks down over her shoulder anyway, trying to make an eye contact with her brother. “It’s okay! He’s not- hey!”

Bill has extended out a new pair of hands, grabbing the hem of Mabel’s sweater from the front and pulling it up, exposing her chest to him. Eye flipping into a mouth, he leans closer to her as he tugs one of the bra cups down, sneaking out a tongue to taste her bare breast. Mabel winces at the contact, like it hurts; Bill is a little offended over that. Mabel should know at this point that when Bill means to hurt someone, there will be pain.

“Please,” Mabel says, her voice quiet; her meek tone makes Bill smile and he wraps his lips around her breast, sucking hard on the soft mound. Mabel cries out again, but this time it is an obvious moan, and that seems to agitate Dipper more than the earlier squeak did; Bill can hear how Dipper starts to run towards the throne, and in his mind’s eye Bill can see that Dipper’s fists are raised.

“I see, you want to be the one to uncork your sister?” Bill smirks, letting Mabel’s breast slip out of his mouth as he snaps his fingers, making all of her clothes disappear at once. As Mabel yelps in surprise in his lap and tries to cover herself with his arms, Bill snaps his fingers again, and now Dipper is running straight into a wall. Bill’s eye rolls back into its place just in time for him to see Dipper crash into the wall, face bouncing hard against the stony surface.

“Dipper!” Mabel starts to struggle her way out of Bill’s lap, which Bill allows to happen; she looks surprised by the time she has backed off from him, but she gets over that fast, running over to where Dipper has crumbled down to the floor. Not caring about her nudity, she leans over her  brother to check the damage, her little breasts hanging right above Dipper’s face.

“You two are so cute,” Bill comments from the throne. He snaps his fingers again: Dipper is unhurt again, but his clothes are now gone too, and he blushes hard when he realizes that he’s so close to Mabel’s breasts and one of them is dripping Bill’s drool on his face. They scramble back to their feet, both of them red from hairline to toes but sticking together, their hands seeking each other as they turn to look at Bill, fearful.

Bill is quiet for a moment, looking at his two little pets and their young, slim, nude bodies. He curls his fingers against the arms of his throne, his body tight with arousal; it’s about time he fucks these two, really. But-

“Here’s the thing,” he says. “This will go on as long as I want it to and there’s nothing you can do about it. I’m going to fuck you both soon, but I’ll be kind: I’ll let you fuck each other first.”

“Bill!” Surprising him again, both Mabel and Dipper manage to go even redder than before, and neither can look the other in the eye. But they are still holding hands, their bodies are moving closer to each other little by little. Either they are going to do what Bill wants because they don’t want Bill to mistreat them, or because they really want this. Either way, it’s fine by Bill. They’ll be his in the end, anyway.

“So, we’re in agreement?” The twins just stare at him, which makes Bill laugh. “I’m taking that as a yes. Let’s get started.”


	55. Happy Birthday (Bill/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill and Mabel celebrate Mabel's birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con, Bill Wins AU, older Mabel.

“Do you like your birthday celebrations, Shooting Star?”

Bill rakes his fingers along her thigh, which makes Mabel shiver; she knows he could easily grow claws, make her bleed. She nods hastily, not quite able to make herself talk; she thinks about Dipper, and Grunkle Stan and Ford, and wishes that they were here too. It’s been a while since she’s been in the dungeons with them and she can only hope they are still in good health.

“Is that all, Shooting Star?” He cradles the back of her head with his other hand, entwining his fingers into her hair and gripping tight. She swallows, her throat expanding against the blue collar around her neck; Bill sounds calm, which could be a bad sign or it could mean he’s just messing with her, and while Mabel thinks it’s usually the sign of the former, the latter has happened often enough that she doubts anyway. Nevertheless, she tries to speak up:

“They are- very nice.” No humans or other creatures are being mistreated or otherwise abused, after all; that doesn’t always happen. But she know there is destruction happening on the outside, the end of the universe is still ongoing and her family isn’t here. This is the highest praise Bill is going to get from her.

He snaps his fingers, making all of her clothes disappear.

“Hey!” Mabel’s hands fly up towards her breasts, but Bill summons shackles around her wrists and pulls her arms behind her back, making her back arch. They have been sitting side by side on Bill’s throne, but now Bill lifts Mabel into his lap, growing slightly larger in size as he rests her down on top of his legs, spreading them. He is holding her close to his eye, his horrible, all-seeing eye, eye that is starting to flip over.

“Kiss me,” he says, his voice booming around her as a mouth opens in place of his eye, its lips parting slightly as it lets out a hot breath on her face. Mabel doesn’t hesitate; she leans across the last bit of distance between them and presses her lips against his, hoping so hard that he’s not going to open his mouth. Like always, her hopes are in vain as he lets his mouth fall open and slides his tongue out against her, coating her face, her throat, her breasts with his saliva.

When Bill pulls away, Mabel gasps for breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she feels the tears come. Bill chuckles, stroking her naked back with one hand.

“Not happy with what I’ve got for you, huh?” He swats her on her ass, hard enough to draw a cry from her, as well as the tears she so desperately tried to hold back. “I suppose I just have to entertain you myself! Buckle up, sweetie.”

He licks her face again, catching the tears that have spilled from her with his tongue. He wipes all signs of her unhappiness away, until there’s only him, as there always is.


	56. Untitled #9 (Bill/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, you’ve always been my favorite,” Bill says.

“You know, you’ve always been my favorite,” Bill says.

The fingers running through Mabel’s hair are tender, kind. She tenses when she feels him twirl a lock of hair around his finger, expecting a pull, but Bill lets his finger slip free instead.

“I like that you’re being so reasonable, too. It shows how mature you are.” He pushes hand beneath a veil of hair and grabs her by the back of her neck, squeezing lightly. “Do you think you can make the rest of your family see the light, too?”

Mabel says nothing. Grip on her neck tightens.


	57. First Time Pet Owner (Bill/Mabel, implied Bill/Pines Family)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill tries to be a good owner to the Pines family, especially Mabel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con, Bill Wins AU, older Mabel.

Bill doesn’t really need to, but he does because it’s fun; he tries to be a good owner to the Pines family.

He feeds them- well, his friends feed them whenever they remember to do so. They always have water available, either for drinking of washing; it’s just that sometimes it may run out, so his pets have to think about how they want to use it. As far as physical stuff goes, they really have nothing to complain about most of the time.

Now, Bill can admit that fulfilling the emotional needs of his pets is something he has harder time getting the hang of, but sometimes you only learn as you go. Shooting Star is a fun Pines to learn with.

“This is how it will go, Shooting Star,” Bill says. “Touch yourself until you come, or I will fucking cut you.”

She glares at him, but doesn’t hesitate; he watches as she spreads her slim thighs to him, exposing the soft, tight hole between her legs and the folds of flesh shielding it, her excitable little clit. She pushes her fingers into her mouth, lapping at them softly with her tongue until they’re gleaming with saliva. She takes them to her clit, first, squeezing the button of flesh between her index and middle fingers as she starts to stroke it.

“That’s good,” Bill says; encouragement is important, after all. “Get yourself wet for me, Mabel.”

She shudders at the sound of her own name, but she keeps going, rubbing and stroking her clit as she bites her lip, trying not to make sounds. It’s adorable; Bill can tell she’s getting excited, her nipples hardening and the flesh between her legs turning slicker and pinker with each caress of her hand. She has no reason to not make sound, except it apparently makes her think it gives her a slight victory over Bill. As if it matters in the face of the massive, absolute victory that Bill has over her, over this entire universe.

But, that right there is why Bill is into this whole pet ownership thing in the first place.

“Make yourself scream, Shooting Star.”

Pines’s are just too fun to let go.


	58. Forget Me Not (Bill/Mabel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where Dipper accepts the apprenticeship, Bill visits Mabel before she leaves.

“So you’re leaving, huh?”

Mabel shouldn’t entertain the idea of having a conversation with Bill Cipher. It’s Bill, what good could come out of it? But Mabel is sad and she doesn’t have anyone to really talk to right now, so she lets Bill float close to her, even poke at her hair with his cane.

“Yeah.”

“Alone.”

“Yeah.” She furrows her brows, pointing her finger at him. “But that doesn’t mean you get to mess around with him! I swear, you touch him and you’ll be sorry for it forever!”

Bill laughs, because of course he does. “Wouldn’t dream of incurring your wrath, Shooting Star!” He drifts past her shoulder, and she turns around to see where he’s going. He looks at Dipper’s bed, which is covered in maps of Gravity Falls, featuring all the places he and Ford will be exploring in the future. That’s how his bed had looked like yesterday, and the sight of it makes Mabel ache inside just as much in the dream as it did in reality. “It’s too bad though. I’d rather have you around than him.”

Mabel snorts. “Right.”

“I mean it!” His voice is coming from behind her ear, startling her; when she tries to step away from him, he grabs her from the shoulders, yanking her close. She swears she can feel his eye bump against the back of her head, sticky and wet, and it’s so gross. “Nerds are fine in small amounts, but they get boring over time! Folks like us don’t.”

“There is no us,” Mabel hisses, lifting her hands up to pull Bill’s off of her; that just gets Bill to sprout out another pair of arms, grasping her wrists with new pair of hands. When she looks at him over her shoulder, he is looking at her with a curved eye that she is pretty sure implies that he’s amused, and she wants to punch him for that.

“There could be,” Bill says, in a stupid all-knowing voice. “Pine Tree has moved on from you, Shooting Star. Maybe it’s a time for new partner in crime.”

“You? You tried to kill Dipper and me, and Soos and Stan!” And Xyler and Craz, she wants to say, but she knows she has no ground to stand on with imaginary guys. “You tried to kill Dipper twice!” Her fists clench at the memory, at the letter that she had burned afterwards. “You wanted to throw him off the water tower.”

“So I got carried away, that happens.”

“You wanted me to do the same!”

“Everyone should experience a serious injury once in their lives!”

“Okay, that’s it.” She shoves her elbows backwards, hitting Bill on his front. He just giggles at the contact, but he lets her go anyway, and she doesn’t waste time getting as far away from him as possible. “Whatever, I’m going home and Dipper is not going to fall for your tricks anymore! You might as well go away now!”

“I do have some business to attend to.” He draws a circle onto the floor with his cane, which turns into a black hole. As Mabel backs off from it, not wanting to get sucked in, Bill continues: “But I wouldn’t get too cozy if I was you! I’m not done with any of you yet.”

He floats above the hole, his eye narrowing as it focuses on Mabel.

“Especially not you, Shooting Star.”

Somehow, she manages to wake up before he makes his exit, but it doesn’t make her feel any less uneasy about the dream.


	59. The Art Of A Deal (Wendy, Bill)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendy summons Bill to get her mom back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to "Most Dangerous Game", which is part of my first fic collection, but it's not necessary to read that one to understand this.

The second time Wendy tries, she succeeds in the summoning.

Bill Cipher looks like a child’s toy, the lore goes. He is strangely cute, Wendy has to admit, and it’s kind of funny to watch as he tips his hat at her, and yet she’s so nervous that her stomach seems to have turned into one huge knot that just keeps tightening and tightening.

“Scared of me, Red?” His voice echoes around Wendy, darkly amused, but so annoyingly high-pitched in tone it helps her return to herself from the state of anxiety. She sets her jaw, meets his one-eyed stare straight on as she sets her hands on her hips.

“As if I’d be scared of a flying Dorito.” Wendy takes comfort in her own words, repeating them in her mind; Bill Cipher is just that, something harmless, not anything she needs to be afraid of. She knows damn well she’s lying to herself, but what she needs right now is lies. She wants to talk to him and she can’t do that if she’s shitting in her pants.

“Ooh, feisty! Suits your coloring, babe.” Bill chuckles, holding onto a golden cane with both hands as he leans towards her. “Now, what can I do for you?”

That makes her pause. She knows why she has called upon him, it’s picture clear in her mind what she wants; she can’t bring herself to say anything. It could happen for real, she realizes: she could have her Mom back, her family could be whole again- it overwhelms her, and she finds herself stepping backwards, rushing even.

“Whoa, easy!” Two small hands grab her shoulders from behind, almost making her jump out of her skin; Wendy looks over her shoulder and she sees another version of Bill there, stroking her shoulders in a way that’s probably supposed to be soothing, but it only makes her tense more. Another hand grabs her from the chin, turning her face towards; the first Bill is there, staring at her with an intense eye as he strokes his thumb underneath the curve of her lip.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it? What you can do with just one little wish.” The other Bill disappears, and he floats even closer to Wendy, pushing his fingers into her hair. “And all you need to do is one favor in return. How freaking simple is that?”

Favor. That’s the part of the lore that is consistent with all tales Wendy has heard of Bill Cipher: if you want something from him, you need to give him something in return. Her fear is sharp now, slicing at her insides as she tries to keep her breathing calm and even, as she tries not to lose it.

“Well, if you weren’t scared before you sure are scared now!” Bill laughs at her, backing up from her before starting to circle her in the air, his eye always remaining on her. “Come on now, there’s no need to be scared! You’re gonna ask something big from me, it’s only natural that you give me something big in return. But is it not worth it?” He slides close to her, heat coming off from his body as he inches close to her ear. “Is it not worth it to get your Mama back?”

Hearing him say that word, what Wendy called her mother, makes anger flare within her. She steps away from him, growling: “Maybe it’s not worth it to make a deal with you!” Feeling encouraged by her anger, she adds: “You know what, I’m done with this thing. You can go now.”

“Yep, definitely scared! I can’t even tell you just how disappointed your Mom is with you right now.” Bill tries to pretend to be sad, but doesn’t succeed; he laughs, leaning backwards in the air as he holds onto what Wendy guesses is his stomach. Right now, Wendy’s biggest wish is that she had a baseball bat she could swat him with.

“Ooh, we’re getting violent inside that pretty red head! I guess it’s time for me to go.” Not before cackling a little more, and sweeping close to her once more, his eye narrowed with mirth as he says: “You can always reschedule our meeting, Red. I’ll be waiting for you. So will Mama.”

That’s it: she throws a punch at him, only for him to disappear right before it hits, snatching her satisfaction from her just from beneath her nose.

It’s only after he’s gone that his words really hit her, when the whole situation hits her, what she just let slip from her hands. She squeezes her eyes close, biting at her lip to keep herself from screaming out loud in sheer frustration. It takes her a while until she’s able to leave the forest, and the feeling she’s let Mama down.


	60. Bread Always Falls On Strange Side (Tad Strange/Stan)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After returning from the sea, Stans receive bread from Tad Strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things you need to know to understand this fic:
> 
> 1\. Tad Strange is an Eldritch Abomination.   
> 2\. He and Stan dated, it didn't end well.
> 
> Thanks to an anon at my Tumblr for providing me the idea of Tad sending Stans bread.

“We have a delivery from Tad Strange.”

“Oh?” Stan joins Ford in the kitchen, eyes widening in delight when they take notice of a huge loaf of bread that Ford has just unwrapped on the table. “Cheese bread! Holy shit, that is so good!”

“It does smell nice.” Ford’s words are agreeable, but he’s frowning. Stan, who is all set to cut himself a piece or maybe shove the whole bread into his mouth, instantly slows down.

“What, do you think it’s poisoned?” Man, Tad is not going to like it if someone has messed with his bread. Stan knows Tad hates the idea of people thinking ill of him, and even a balanced guy like Tad is going to get paranoid about what people are saying about him if a word of this gets out.

“No, it’s just that-” Ford starts to wrap the brown paper that the bread is lying on back around it, much to Stan’s chagrin. “We have been back for five days. Every day, we have received bread from this man.”

“So? Tad and I used to be an item. He’s been missing me.” Stan can’t lie; he’s been missing Tad too. He used to think that Tad was a benevolent Ted Bundy, a nice but unspeakably creepy man, but during their- well, affair, it had turned out that Tad was just a regular lonely guy, just like Stan himself was. Sure, for someone who was supposed to pass for a perfectly normal human, Tad could be pretty clueless about how humans worked,  but all in all, they had made a surprisingly good match. All the way up to the Weirdmageddon.

Stan just can’t forget the way Tad had abandoned him when Stan had needed him the most, leaving him to suffer through amnesia alone when they were supposed to be a team. Tad hadn’t even bothered to come back when Stan’s memory had returned, even after Stan had tried to reach out for him, letting Stan leave to the seas without a goodbye. Stan can appreciate the bread he’s getting, he can eat it with pleasure, but it’s not going to make him go back to the guy.

“Hmm.” Ford is still frowning, tapping his fingers against the loaf. “I just think he could be more straightforward about his feelings,” Ford says, grabbing the loaf with both hands. Realizing that Ford is planning to throw it into the trash can, Stan walks over to him, grabbing him from his arm to stop him.

“Like we are open and honest about everything? C'mon, Ford, he just doesn’t get how people do these things.” To Stan’s satisfaction, Ford doesn’t put up a fight, releasing the bread and letting Stan unwrap it from the paper again. “But you know, I’ll go talk to him and tell him that this is enough. It’s time for him to move on.”

Ford’s eyes light up, but he still looks a little discontent, his mouth remaining down-turned even while he allows Stan to fetch a knife for cutting the bread.

“I should come with you,” Ford says, holding the bread while Stan starts cutting it into slices. Stan laughs, giving his brother a dismissive wave with his free hand.

“Please, I’ve dealt with rejected lovers before. I can handle them.”

*

Phone rings in Tad Strange’s house.

He does nothing to pick it up, letting the call go to the answering machine instead. He whistles to himself as he washes the dishes, listening as Stan’s voice starts talking on the phone as he scrubs on a plate. He ignores the message even after it has ended, moving onto clean his living room instead.

It’s only after he’s done cleaning his apartment when he stops to listen to the messages Stan has left, both of them.

_Um, this is Stan Pines? Remember, your ex? I think we should talk. Gimme a call._

_Hey, this is Stan again. You know, I think I’m just gonna come over. I’ll be there at five._

Tad nods to himself; five in the afternoon is a good time. He has plenty of time to make sure he has cognac for Stan and the ingredients for his own favorite drink. He doesn’t think Stan is planning to stay, but he also knows that if he plays his cards well enough, Stan won’t say no for a drink.

And once Stan fails to deny a drink, he’ll fail to deny Tad anything else.

Thinking of that gives him a thrill, but it also makes him feel guilty, to the point he has to close his eyes and grab his head to steady himself, to make himself ignore his many, quickened heartbeats. Of course, the last thing he wants to do is hurt Stan in a way that doesn’t please both of them, but he  _has_  to proceed with this. He has screwed up so much, acted nothing like a proper lover should and now he’s going to be even worse. He has to be. Sometimes you need to break things further to be able to fix them. There is a human saying like that, right?

He just has to hope that Stan will be receptive to him, that Stan will understand that Tad only wants what is best for them both. He failed Stan after the Weirdmageddon, but it’s not too late to fix things. Stan will just have to allow him to do that.

Tad hopes he enjoyed the bread.


	61. Desperate Moves (Stan/Soos)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soos goes for a desperate kiss.

It’s like an out of body experience.

Soos doesn’t slam Stan against the wall as much as he grabs him from the arms and guides him to the wall back first, pinning him there while pushing his body against him. Stan stares at him, eyes wide with alarm, but he isn’t moving away. That encourages Soos to close in, press their mouths together.

Stan lets him stay there for several seconds.

“Stan! Where are you?”

They both freeze against each other at Ford’s hard voice; Stan’s hands feel almost as hard as they grab Soos from his shoulders, giving him a firm shove. Soos backs off, cheeks heating up as he heads for the counter of the gift shop, pretending to look for something there while Ford walks in, bristling about something.

“Well, look who crawled up to where civilized people are!” Stan greets his brother, a little too loudly to be natural; yet when Soos glances over the counter at him, Stan has his game face on, merely appearing to be bothered as usual by Ford’s presence. All the acting turns out to be unnecessary as Ford simply ignores Stan’s attempt at small talk, launching right into a rant.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me-”

Somehow, Soos manages to make himself exit the shop. He needs to go lick his wounds of his hurt pride, prepare for the inevitable pain of having to pretend that what just happened never took place. He knows how it goes with Stan.

If Stan had wanted him to stay and talk things through, he would have found a way to tell him even with Ford arriving to interrupt them.

Yet as much as he knows this, he lingers outside the gift shop anyway, hoping to hear Stan call after him. It takes him a while until he’s able to make himself leave; he’s always had hard time stopping with the hope.


	62. Say It With A Kiss (Manly Dan/Ford)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manly Dan has always had a thing for sophisticated men.

Dan has always had a thing for sophisticated men. He’s not sure if Mr. Stanford Pines is exactly that - there is something just a little bit rough about him - but he is close, and Dan is awfully flustered around him. When Mr. Pines asks if Dan can work on his new house, Dan doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

“I really appreciate it,” Mr. Pines says, smiling, and Dan really likes that smile. He thinks he would like to see more of it.

He never asks.

*

Something happens to Mr. Pines, something that gives an impostor an opportunity to step into his place. Dan would be ready to burn things down in Mr. Pines’s name, but the fact Mr. Pines’s impostor looks so much like Mr. Pines himself holds his hand.

“Can I help you?” the impostor asks every time Dan visits his store, all confidence and charm vocally, but in his eyes there is always concern. That worry always makes Dan hesitate; he leaves without saying a word.

He concludes that the impostor has to be an actual blood relative to Mr. Pines; the ways the impostor resembles Mr. Pines are familiar in the ways inherited things are familiar. So Dan lets him be, keeping a close eye on him, hoping that some day there will be an explanation for why this has happened. Why Mr. Pines couldn’t be even bothered to say goodbye when he left.

But Dan knows the answer to that one, doesn’t he? Mr. Pines never had a reason to say goodbye to him. He never knew it mattered to Dan.

*

That lesson has burned all the way to Dan’s heart by the time he meets his Mr. Pines again.

It’s not hard to remind himself of that lesson, how important it is to let people know about your feelings, when he sees Mr. Pines again at Lazy Susan’s place. When he sees Mr. Pines’s salted and peppered hair, his long coat, the way he carries himself- Mr. Pines was a fine man before and he is even finer now. So fine that every inch of Dan wants to back up and never approach someone like him again, but he doesn’t listen to himself this time. He knows he can be rash sometimes.

“Mr. Pines!”

Stanford Pines halts in middle of a coffee order, turning to look at him.

“Wait,” he starts, his eyes widening. “Are you-?”

Dan is lifting Mr. Pines up into his arms before he has a chance to finish his sentence.

He waits for a moment, ready to let Mr. Pines go if he starts struggling or if he freezes beyond any normal tension; when Mr. Pines simply hangs there in his embrace, his hands coming down to rest lightly on Dan’s hairy shoulders, Dan dares to tip his mouth against Mr. Pine’s slightly parted lips. He expects them to go tense, maybe close up. He feels like an ice cream about to melt in the sun when he feels those lips press softly, tentatively against his, Mr. Pines’s hands taking a firmer grip of his shoulders.

“Oh my,” Susan says.

Susan’s voice snaps Dan back into reality, makes him realize he has made Mr. Pines sit there on the counter, right before Susan’s delighted eyes. The pressure around his waist makes him realize that Mr. Pines has hooked his legs around him, holding onto him firmly as his arms move around Dan’s neck, keeping him close. Mr. Pines doesn’t resist when Dan pulls away, sitting there with his eyes closed as he breathes in deeply, smiling.

“Well,” Mr. Pines says, about to open his eyes. Dan isn’t sure if he dares to face them yet, so he kisses Mr. Pines again.


End file.
